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margotw10bis · 1 year ago

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Boss Me Around. KNJ [m]

boss!namjoon x assistant!reader

Genre: smut; office romance

Words: 13.9k

Synopsis: You have been Namjoon's assistant for four years but something changes the day Namjoon tells you he is going to get married.

Warnings: sexual content; unprotected sex; public sex; sexual harassment (not from Namjoon); oral sex (f. receiving)

You try your best to smile through the unpleasant glance that is set on you. You can't say it's the first time you experience it but it doesn't mean that you're used enough to simply not care. Even if it were true, you don't want to 'don't care'. When you arrived at the office and saw Mr. Choi's name on the schedule, you knew you'd have a bad day. Every single time the forty-year old man — an important partner of the firm you work in — has a meeting with your boss, Mr. Choi always finds a way to flirt with you. You keep a professional behavior but his lewd eyes and disgusting smirk are hard to deal with.

Of course, you could tell your boss but you know that this business partner is crucial for Kim Electronics. So you get a grip on yourself and pray for your boss to come soon. A relieved sigh escapes your lips when you notice Kim Namjoon through the glass walls of the meeting room. However, your reliever doesn't last long: Namjoon's face is tensed and his clenching jaws are a clear sign of anger.

You've been his personal assistant for four years and a single gaze is enough for you to know what's going on in his handsome head. You mentally go through his appointments to guess what happened but you can't find anything that could make him angry. Moreover, he is not really the type to get angry easily. You look at him with a questioning glance but Namjoon is fully focus on Mr. Choi, so you leave to give them privacy while they talk business.

When you reach your desk, you look at the different things that are planned for today but nothing could get your boss in this grumpy mood. You can't help but worrying about him. You attempt to let that aside and do your work, waiting for Namjoon to come back so you can ask him properly. That might be weird for some people that you two talk about non-work related topics but you think that your relationship with your boss contains some kind of friendship too.

You were 23 years old when you started working at Kim Electronics. You were so excited to have your first real job and were willing to be the best you could. At that time, and even if his dad was the CEO of the company, Namjoon needed to prove himself to the board. He needed someone hard-working, dedicated and that wasn't afraid of working overtime — the exact description of you — to assist him. You feel proud when you look back: you helped him get promoted to Finance Director five months after you arrived, and, recently, CFO. It's crystal clear that when Namjoon's father retires, the board will elect him CEO. A warm feeling of pride fills up your chest when you think about it because, for you, Namjoon is a great boss and an even better human being. However, you can't help but wondering if he'll keep you as his PA or if he'll choose that Min Yoongi weasel who is currently his father's PA.

Lost in your thoughts, you haven't noticed Namjoon coming back until he slams his office door. You jolt and basically run to him. You don't bother knocking and enter. You see Namjoon, in his leather chair, elbows on his desk and his head in his hands. You get closer and pat his large shoulder — did he get buffer?

"What's going on?" You ask him gently but Namjoon only growls in desperation

Your heart squeezes to witness him being so distraught. Of course, in the past four years you've seen him in all kinds of mood: angry that an important contract was cancelled; sad when his granddad died; embarrassed when his legendary clumsiness made him spill his wine glass all over himself during a launch party; and so much more. But it's the first time that he just shut his mouth, not confiding to you. You frown when you can't find what to tell him. You don't like seeing him like that.

"I don't know what to do" He eventually whispers with a broken voice that actually breaks your heart, but you stay silent, waiting for him to keep going "You know that this company is my whole life. It's my family heritage and I've always worked my ass off for it... But I don't know if I'm willing to sacrifice my love life for it"

Your brows furrow at the last sentence. Is Namjoon seeing someone? He never mentioned something like that. Honestly, you don't even know how he finds time to date. You're with him all day, and some nights too when you're working overtime — which happens more often that you'd wished. Your job is the main reason why you're single: further than spending most of your time at the office, when you're free you're too tired to go out. And you know that Namjoon works even more than you.

"What do you mean?" You finally ask when you recover your mind

"My dad came to see me this morning. He wants me to marry Lee Ji-Eun..."

"Lee Ji-Eun as Lee Jung-Hwa's daughter? From TalkTive telecom company?" Your voice is higher pitch than usually from the surprise

Namjoon nods, defeated. It's no secret that arranged marriages happen in the Korean high society. Big firms tend to consolidate their business by marrying their children. However, since Namjoon is almost 31, you thought that his parents were going to let him decide who he wanted to marry. You thought wrong. That's when something like that happens that you're glad to be born in an average family.

"She's... pretty" That's all came to your mind to confort him and that's not brilliant

Namjoon scoffs and looks at you, raising one brow that says 'Is that supposed to make me feel better?'.

"If you want to marry your girlfriend, I'm sure your parents won't force you to be with Ji-Eun" You try with an unsure tone

"Well, I don't have a girlfriend. That's the problem. My dad asked me if I were dating someone. When I said no, he came up with Ji-Eun"

"I'm sorry, Namjoon" You gently tell him, and you're sincere

Your boss gives you a weak smile, appreciating your solace.

"I guess c'est la vie like the French say"

You wince as he does the same. You both know that it's not what Namjoon imagined for his future. Actually, you've never thought about him being with anyone because he hasn't had a girlfriend during the four years you've worked with him — occasional hook-ups with random girls met at clubs or fancy events don't count as girlfriends. Is that why some weird feeling you can't seem to identify presses your chest? It's definitely more than worry about Namjoon but what is it precisely?

————

Knowing Namjoon like the back of your hand, you knew exactly what he needed: to keep his mind busy. That's why you've added more appointments for him this week. The side effect of it? You working overtime to support him. As the days of the week went by, Namjoon grew more irritated, knowing that on Friday he'll have to meet the girl. Oddly enough, you went grumpier yourself too. You tried by all means to schedule something for that night but Mr. Kim father made sure to cancel everything last minute.

So, here you are, in Namjoon's office, facing a defeated Namjoon, a few hours before his date with Lee Ji-Eun. He is just sitting in his chair and you feel bad for him. He truly is a nice guy: always smiling, caring, protective towards his employees. He is strict, which makes him a little bit intimidating sometimes, but he's right. You are very lucky to have him as a boss. Honestly, you wouldn't work for anyone else, especially when Namjoon is also your friend. But right now, it's like all his positive energy ran off.

"Should I call you in the middle of the date, pretexting an emergency?" You propose and you feel lighter when a small laugh — the first of the week — comes from Namjoon's beautiful lips

"I don't think it's a good idea, you could have some trouble afterwards. However, keep your phone close because I might call you to get wasted"

You offer him a genuine smile. Namjoon has always made sure to give you some credits when he succeeded at the firm, and he's always invited you to celebrate it with alcohol. Some kind of 'blow off some steam' thing as he calls it. It's not something awkward or a way to get inside your pants, but more like a team celebration. To be true, your relationship with Namjoon has never been ambiguous: he is your boss and your friend, nothing more.

Of course, you're not blind and you can see how attractive he is — and if you were in fact blind, your female colleagues have made sure that you know he's hot. However, you never felt any sexual tension between you, maybe because you've never set the right mood for that, and not that you're willing to set the mood. But why do you keep looking at his buff chest tightened in his white shirt right now? Your body heat increases when your brain drifts away towards some filthy thoughts about the softness of his lips and the hardness of another part of him. You need to escape his office to prevent yourself from marking a huge mistake that would consist of you kissing and fucking your boss like there were no tomorrow.

After you make sure Namjoon doesn't need anything, you leave the office, promising to support him after his date. But now it's 3 am and you still don't have any sign from your boss. To be honest, you thought that he would call you at 9 pm, cutting short his unwanted date. But you have seen 9, 10, 11 pm and so on passed in silence. Does that mean that Namjoon got along with Ji-Eun? It's a good thing, right? But you can't help but feeling an unpleasant pressure in your chest at that thought. Your brain is working like hell to make up every single scenario possible of the night. You sigh every time you imagine your boss kissing Ji-Eun. What the heck is wrong with you?

————

Namjoon hasn't contacted you all weekend and you're kind of mad. You don't know the exact reason but you guess it's because he told you he'd call you but didn't. Yeah, your pride definitely took a hit. That's why you arrive all grumpy at your company building. You even feel more irritated when you see Namjoon's office door open. Even if you have mixed up feelings — for undetermined reasons —, you can't act unprofessional. That's why you make some coffee and knock before greeting your boss.

Namjoon's smile has returned but you are not as happy as you thought you would be. In fact, you frown when you notice his cheerfulness.

"Y/N, hi!" Namjoon welcomes you, taking the cup of coffee with thankfulness

"Hi. Did you have a good weekend?" You ask but you don't know if you really want to know the answer

"It was nice. The date with Ji-Eun went great. She is amazing: super smart and funny. And the rumors didn't lie, she is gorgeous" Namjoon gets all excited and his eyes sparkle when he talks about the woman he is supposed to marry

You stay silent for a moment, trying to prevent a grinning. Is this because of what he is saying? Or because of your weird feelings? You've never felt like this around Namjoon. You don't really like feeling like that. What kind of friend is not happy when their friends' date was 'great' ?

"Great" You finally say but there is no excitement in your voice "I have to meet the new interns so I've sent you your schedule by email"

It is quite a lame excuse to get out of Namjoon's office because, even though you actually have to meet the new interns, you still have a good 30 minutes before that.

Are you jealous? No, it can't be. Namjoon is your boss. Yes, he is friendly but nothing ever happened between the two of you. And nothing can ever happen. You can't have feelings for him. You don't. But the itchy feeling in your chest could say the opposite... You shake your head to push away those ridiculous thoughts and make your way to the lobby.

Once again, you sigh — maybe the hundredth time this morning — when you notice Min Yoongi. Of course, this louse is here. As the personal assistant of the big boss, he'll make a feedback on the new recruits to Mr. Kim who will decide if one of them will be offered a permanent contract. Even though you understand why Yoongi has to be here, you're annoyed. A sudden urge of murder titillate your fingers. There is no secret that you two don't get along. At first, you didn't have anything against him but then, you noticed how haughty he was towards you. Is it because you're a woman? Or just because you're working for a less important member of the firm? You don't know but it doesn't change anything.

You roll your eyes, passing in front of Yoongi, not greeting him. Why would you when you know that he'll blow you off. It's kind of a shame because the man is surely charming physically. His raven long hair makes him charismatic and creates a real contrast with his white skin. His features are delicate but his dark eyes are a little too beady not to be scary. Perhaps it's also because he never smiles.

Some other employees are here to welcome the interns, too. You look at them with kindness: all those five young people are stressed but willing to do a good job, just like you four years ago. You still remember clearly your first day at Kim Electronics and your first encounter with Namjoon. At the time, you weren't used to wear feminine cloths and usually put on some jeans with a t-shirt. But your job gave you the confidence you needed to wear cloths that suit you, not afraid anymore to be noticed. Sure, your first day was full of mistakes from you, so much that you were afraid that Namjoon would fire you at the end of the day — you even spent your lunch time crying in the restroom. But Namjoon smiled at you and told you 'I hope we'll get to know each other better, then we'll be the best team work of the company'.

Your boss, who was 27 years old, was way more mature and intimidating than you. His charisma made you blush and stutter, and it didn't help that he was extremely attractive. When you started working with him, he was not as brawny as he is today and his hair was blonde and long while it's now short and in a beautiful brown cinder color. However, his smile has always been perfect with his cute dimples, making him less daunting. Actually, his smile is the thing that you love the most about him, not only because it makes him so goddamn handsome but because it's always sincere, almost loving.

The five young and enthusiastic people in front of you bring back all kind of memories to you. Among them, you spot a guy with a very unique style: he is tall and very handsome with his black hair and eyes. His features are so perfect: doe eyes, cute big nose, plump lips with a little silver ring matching his eyebrow piercing. But what catches your eyes is the black tattoos escaping from his cream-color suit. His right hand has some inked patterns and you can easily imagine that the rest of his arm is no different. If he weren't wearing a classy suit with a light blue tie, you'd think he is a rockstar. More than his unique look and handsome face, he has a strong aura. It's hard to get your eyes off of him.

"You're going to sexually harass the interns now?"

Yoongi's annoying voice and comment reach your ears and a shiver of disgust runs though your back.

"What kind of sick fantasies fill your brain?" You bark at him

"I'm not the one literally eye-fucking them"

"Don't you have someone else to bother?" You ask while rolling your eyes

"You get so easily annoyed, why would I look for a better prey?" Yoongi smirks

Honestly, you want to slap him in the face but you're not sure that your bosses will appreciate it so you just take a step away from him, hoping that it will make him forget your existence. It does someway since the little fucker—you mean Yoongi stops talking.

————

"Hi, I'm Jeon Jungkook, they told me I'll be with you this week"

The handsome intern you noticed earlier is standing tall in front of you. His sweet voice and his bunny smile are the opposite of his look. He seems kind despite his intimidating piercings and tattoos. As they say, never judge a book by its cover...

"Hi, Jungkook! I'm Y/N, Mr. Kim's assistant. How are you? Not too nervous for your first day?" You tell him with a genuine smile

"I'm okay, I'm actually eager to know more" Jungkook responds, scrunching his nose

Cute. You instantly grow soft on him. Something about him really reminds you about your old self, at the beginning of your career. Namjoon has guided you all the way through it and you perfectly know that things would have been way harder without him, so you are willing to do the same for Jungkook, hoping that he'll feel as untroubled as you when Namjoon was around.

"Let's introduce you to Mr. Kim then"

You knock on Namjoon's door and enter with the intern by your side. You're surprised to see your boss on the phone but not for a business call. You tense when you hear Ji-Eun's name. You grow even more annoyed that Namjoon has a bright smile on his face. What the hell? They've known each other for five minutes! You wish you could roll your eyes but don't. So you just clear your throat, making Namjoon finally realize that you're here.

He straightens on his chair and hangs up. He looks at Jungkook with a questioning look so you take on yourself to introduce them. Some mundane civilities are exchanged and you can finally exit Namjoon's office. The good thing about having Jungkook working with you is that you don't have time to question your weird feelings. Jungkook is actually pretty good and works with his heart. You'll make sure to talk positively about him at the end of the month when Mr. Kim decides which intern should work at Kim Electronics. You spend all week explaining to him how things work and doing your usual job as Namjoon's PA. You don't have an extra minute to think.

Well, that's what you thought until Friday afternoon. In twenty minutes, you will eventually be able to enjoy the confort of your couch, doing nothing but binge-watching Netflix's new series. Your mood is a little lighter than the rest of the week — maybe the new light pink blouse you're wearing is helping too?

You're humming while entering Namjoon's office with a new hot cup of coffee for your boss. Even though you'll clock out soon, the same thing cannot be said for Namjoon who still has to meet a business partner tonight. You see him standing up, a file in hands and his brows furrow. You love seeing him like this: it's his 'work face'. The one he is making when he's fully focus on his job. His whole energy changes, making him a true successor for the CEO post. You could even say that he is more handsome like that.

Namjoon is so focus that he hasn't noticed you yet. You step closer to him but it is a really bad idea because at the same time, Namjoon raises his hand to push back his brown hair. As a result, the whole cup of coffee slashes your — unfortunately new — pink shirt. Thankfully, Namjoon doesn't like boiling hot coffee so you don't burn yourself. However, you're completely stained in brown color liquid and the fabric sticks to your bra and skin.

You wince and Namjoon's eyes widen. You don't really have time to feel embarrassed, even though Namjoon is clearly aware of your curves right now.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N! Let me help you" Your boss exclaims, already grabbing some tissues on his desk.

"Namjoon, it's okay, don't worry" You try to stop him but he is already wiping the liquid off of your shirt — or trying to

Actually, he is making things worst, the tissues crumble in small white particles on your shirt without even absorbing the coffee out of you. The gesture might be kind but Namjoon's movements are nothing like gentle. He is pushing hard against your chest, almost painfully. At every wipe, your shirt is stretched. He is definitely not aware of his strength...

"Namjoon, be gent-"

Your sentence is cut off by a loud noise of ripping fabric. You look down to measure the disaster: your pink shirt is totally open, result of all the little buttons popping. Your white bra is now visible for everyone and especially for Namjoon.

His red cheeks clearly acknowledge that your breasts are right in front of him. But you're blushing too. Your skin is burning and it's not because of the coffee spilt on it. Namjoon's glance and fingers on you cause a wave of arousal washing off all over your body. His eyes even seem to take his dragon shape, intense and darker. Maybe you're going crazy because for a second, you feel Namjoon caressing your boob with the tip of his long fingers — which causes a sweet moan to escape your lips—, right before he removes his hand like he has burnt himself.

He immediately turns to give you some privacy and you feel disappointed—No! You feel relieved that your boss didn't look at your breasts. What the hell is wrong with you?

"I, uhm, I have a spare shirt. Let me grab it for you" Namjoon embarrassedly says with a raspy voice

He grabs a light blue buttoned up shirt from his office cabinet. You know he always keeps one of them, just in case his clumsiness puts him in a difficult situation. Like right now. Except that you're the one in the difficult situation. Namjoon gives you the shirt without looking at you and exits his office to give you time to change.

Namjoon's shirt is bigger than you thought. The bottom hem covers your hips and butt entirely and the sleeves are so long that you can't see your hands. You decide to roll them up to your elbows and tie a knot to shorten the shirt. It will be enough to go home. You're not sure it's your best look, it's surely not flattering but, oddly, you feel good in it. The shirt smells like Namjoon: a light scent of lemon mixed with woody smell. Your insane mind wonders how it would feel to be hugged by your boss. You shake your head to get rid of those ideas. Lately, your brain is going crazy and imagines Namjoon in unprofessional ways.

A light knock on the door helps you to stop thinking non-sense and you informe Namjoon that he can come in. When he opens the door and his eyes meet your features wrapped in his cloths, his mouth opens. He has inappropriate thoughts about you. You look hot and cute at the same time. He can't deny a strange feeling of possessiveness towards you, definitely accentuates by you wearing his clothes. He is somewhat glad that other men will see you like that. He someway wishes to see you more often with his large shirt on your body. More than that, he wishes to see your body without his large shirt on. He has to gather all his strength not to let his dick get hard.

But then, he remembers your gorgeous boobs delicately held by your white bra. So pure and so erotic. Fuck, he wanted to touch you so bad, to feel the softness of your skin, to taste you, to mark you even. He has never had this kind of thoughts and desires about you. Not because he thinks you're not pretty — because you're fucking beautiful — but because Namjoon made a pact with himself: you're too attractive for his sanity so he'll stick to a professional behavior with you. He can't let his tantalizing controlling him. Namjoon is your boss, he can't abuse his power like that. But on the other hand, it's hard to resist, especially when he got a peak of your body.

Namjoon's eyes on you make you blush. You can't say what he is thinking. A tiny part of your brain wishes he finds you good. Once again, what the hell is wrong with you? Namjoon is your boss, period.

"I should run for Chanel's fashion show, right?" You joke and Namjoon chuckles

"You should" He says with a smile "But I'm a bit offended, my shirt looks better on you"

You cheeks redden harder and you look down. Why does your heart beat faster?

————

Three weeks have passed since the shirt incident. Namjoon and you haven't talked about it, not that there were anything else to say. You're back at your professional relationship — a small part of you feel strange about it — and Namjoon had two more dates with Ji-Eun. Every time Namjoon says her name and his eyes sparkle, you get annoyed. You try to convince yourself that it's because he is less focused on his job — although he's not — but you start to understand what is truly going on. You know damn well that you're beginning to have feelings for your boss. But your jealousy — that easily turns into pain — is suffocating. Namjoon is your boss and he is going to marry another woman. That won't be good for you and your little heart. That's why you're trying your best to keep your feelings as far away as possible from you and your overthinking brain.

Anyway, you have to be totally focused on your job, especially when you have to deal with Mr. Choi. Indeed, Namjoon and you have a business lunch with Mr. Choi and his own assistant. You try not to pay attention to Mr. Choi's disgusting smirk every time he looks at you. You can't even smile at him fearing of him misinterpreting it. Unconsciously, you get closer to Namjoon.

You let the three men discuss business while you mentally take note of the details. You have a good memory which is a big benefit for your job. You're good at writing the minutes of the different meetings that Namjoon attends, formal and informal.

At the same time, you enjoy the delicious lunch payed by your company. You can't afford it with your wage but one of the bonuses of being Namjoon's PA is that you are sometimes invited to business luncheons in fancy restaurants. The starter was a tasteful cold tomato soup with parmesan cheese chips. And you're about to take the first bite of your steak with roasted vegetables puree. The presentation of the dish is so delicate that it breaks your heart to sink your fork into it. You hum in delight when the first savors spread under your palate. But you frown immediately. Sesame. There is sesame in the sauce.

You turn your head as fast as you can towards Namjoon. Your heart stops when you see his fork getting closer to his mouth. You scream 'Stop!' and harshly push his hand. His fork lands on Mr. Choi's shirt, staining it but you don't care.

Namjoon looks at you with big surprised eyes. And surely, the rest of the table has the same expression on their faces. You can't mind about it because you are completely panicked. The idea of what could happen drives you crazy.

"Are you okay? You didn't eat it, right?" You ask him, alarmed, checking his face and throat to detect any sign of swelling

"Don't worry" He answers gently, taking your hands off of his face but still holding them

His big palms feel warm around your small fingers. You look into his eyes and you're destabilized to see what looks like affection. You get lost a moment in his beautiful dark brown eyes. The intensity of his glance on you cuts off your breathe. Your eyes move by themselves to set on Namjoon's lips. You automatically lick your own. A not-so-new wave of arousal caused by Namjoon shakes your pussy, painfully clenching around nothing.

A clearing of throat tears you off of your thoughts and you step away from your boss's face. You look around and yell a waiter close by.

"Could you change his plate please? He's allergic to sesame"

"Sure, no problem" The waiter responds, taking the plate that could have killed your boss.

Now that the adrenaline goes down and you're getting aware of what just happened, you feel embarrassed. It's worst when you see the disaster on Mr. Choi's shirt.

"I'm sorry" You apologize to him with a small voice "I'll pay for the cleaning"

"Seo-Joon, go buy a new shirt. Quick"

His assistant wastes no time and basically runs to accomplish his fashion mission. It's the first time you hear Mr. Choi talking with such a harsh tone. He is looking at you without his usually lewd eyes but angry ones. You shiver, unpleasantly, under his threatening gaze.

You're feeling ill-at-ease and it's worse when Namjoon excuses himself to use the restroom. An embarrassing one-on-one with Mr. Choi begins and you instantly regret his severe eye. Yes, his salacious face has returned.

"Aigo! I can't wipe my shirt. Could you help me?" Mr. Choi smirks

As disgusted as you are, you can't say no while you're the cause of his stained shirt. You carefully stand up and get closer, your napkin in hand. Slightly bended over, you try to wipe off but it doesn't seem to do anything.

Your hand halts when you feel something against your butt. No way, it can't be. However, you do clearly feel a caressing movement on your ass. Your blood runs cold. Is Mr. Choi — this disgusting pig — touching your butt? You look up at him and notice his pleased smirk. You want to puke, preferably on Mr. Choi. You are completely paralyzed by horror. You can't move one bit. You feel disgusted by Mr. Choi's behavior but also by your body that has been soiled.

Namjoon stops his steps when he witnesses the worst scene of his life. Mr. Choi, one of his most important business partners, is sexually harassing you. His disgusting hand is caressing your bump in the middle of a restaurant. Namjoon has never felt this angry. He swears he could kill this yucky pig. He clenches his fists and runs to you to harshly push Mr. Choi's palm away from you.

"What the hell is going on?!" Namjoon yells, making few people around looking at your table

Your and Mr. Choi's eyes widen in surprise. You feel relieved to see him but also... ashamed? Why? You didn't do anything wrong, so why do you feel guilty? You look at your feet.

"I said, what is going on?" Namjoon asks again with a harsh and tensed tone which makes you jolt

"Mr. Kim, I think you misread the situation" Mr. Choi responds with such confidence that you could believe him if it weren't your ass he was touching

"Really?" Namjoon's jaws clench in rage "We're leaving. And let's cancel our partnership, Kim Electronics won't be associated with a sexual offender" Then Namjoon gets threateningly closer to Mr. Choi and speaks with a deeper and more intimidating voice "Let me tell you that you're lucky we're in public, otherwise, you'd be on the floor begging for forgiveness"

Namjoon grabs your hand and your bag and drags you out of the restaurant. He is walking so fast with his long legs that you have a hard time following his pace, especially with your high heels. However, he suddenly stops, making you bump into his back. He turns around to look into your eyes. Your boss's face is so tensed with anger, you've never seen him like this in the past four years.

"Has this son of a bitch ever touched you like that?"

"No, it was the first time" You confess, looking down

"Did he ever make you feel uncomfortable?"

You don't think like lying would be a good idea, that's why a weak 'Yes' escapes your lips with a murmur. Even though Mr Choi didn't touch you — until now —, he did ask some kind of personal informations about you, mainly when you were free, or if you were single. If these questions could have been innocent, the tone he used was more than suggestive and the way he sometimes got closer to you was not appreciated. But now that you've told Namjoon, you have hope to not have to face it again.

Namjoon nods like he is trying to internalize the information, gritting his teeth. He truly wants to punch Mr. Choi in the face. Actually, he wants to kill him. Rage makes his blood boil in his veins. How could he have worked with such a piece of shit? Putting you in danger? He is your boss but also your friend. He should have protected you. He should have seen the signs of the sexual harassment that you were undergone. He feels so fucking guilty.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N" Namjoon speaks again with a softer voice, a culpable voice

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong" You immediately say, the last thing you want is him to feel bad

"I should have known, I should have noticed. Fuck, I'm so dumb-"

You cut him off with a hug. Your arms merely circle his large torso and you can feel how brawny he is. You hate seeing Namjoon this devastated while he is not responsible one bit. And maybe you do need to feel safe and protected by someone you trust after what happened. Namjoon is this person. Your heart breaks to see him this guilty but also speeds up to feel him in your arms. That's when you know. You have fallen in love with him.

Namjoon freezes one second before hugging you back. His strong arms totally wrap around your frame. You seem so small and delicate between his arms. It feels right. You're so beautiful, so smart, so funny, so kind to everyone. You don't deserve to be treated like that by a fucking pervert. You deserve to be cherish every single day and the man you'll choose to be with will be the luckiest bastard in the world.

"Stop apologizing, you didn't do anything wrong, Namjoon" You say in his buff chest "I should have told you how I felt"

"No, you have nothing to feel guilty about. He's a fucking asshole. I swear, I won't ever let something like that happen to you again. If someone touches you, I'll take care of them personally"

It's not only a promise he is making to you, but to himself too. You're too precious in his life. The alarming tsunami that shakes his heart at the idea of you being hurt leads him completely lost with his feelings. Why does he feel this moved by anything that happens to you? Why does he feel his heart trying to escape his rib cage to enter yours?

————

You put aside what happened at the restaurant with Mr. Choi for the rest of the week. It's not really hard not to think about it when you have so much work to do. However, it's when you're home alone and have more time to think that it gets harder. Namjoon made sure you were okay and kept telling you that it wasn't your fault. It's still a little bit hard to believe but you know that, with a little more time, you'll truly understand it. Your boss also kept his promise and cut off all business ties Kim Electronics had with Mr. Choi's company. Thankfully, it didn't affect too much the firm you work in since others business partners virtually begged to take Mr. Choi's place.

You gather your documents and head to the board meeting room. Today is the final day of the interns and several employees — including you — are invited to present a report on their work. You didn't change your mind and think that Jungkook should be the one to get a job offer from Kim Electronics.

The atmosphere of the room suddenly changes when Mr. Kim, the CEO, enters, followed by Yoongi. Namjoon looks so much like his dad: tall, dragon brown eyes, charismatic aura. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree like they say. You bow at your big boss like your other colleagues and the meeting starts. Even if some employees defend other interns, most of them praise Jungkook's work. He was enthusiastic and motivated with everyone and showed a real willing to learn the job.

"I kept a report that I asked him to write at the end of his first week. As you can see, he has done a very good job at it and I'm sure that, if we give him the opportunity, he'll be an important element of our team" You end your presentation, glad of how it turned out

Well, that was before the little brat of Yoongi. The second you set eyes on him, you notice his mischievous smirk. Even before he opens his vicious mouth, you want to slap him in the face.

"You seemed to get along with Mr. Jeon. I even think you're the one who got to know him the best. Maybe you could tell us more about his personality? Is he nice?" Yoongi's voice is jeering and a little condescending but you're sure that no one gets it

You know damn well what he means by 'nice'. Yoongi hasn't stopped implying that you had a crush on Jungkook. His sick brain is obsessed with the idea of you having a relationship with Jungkook for whatever reason. But is he really willing to discredit your judgment in front of your boss? You swear you could strangle him right now.

"Jungkook seems to be loyal. Like I said, he is cheerful and motivated. These are the qualities we should look for in a candidate, don't you think Mr. Min?" You answer and internally jump in joy when you witness Yoongi's face turning red in frustration

"Sure" He simple replays, jaws clenched

A few minutes later, a vote designates Jungkook as the intern who'll get the job offer. The good news make you happy. Jungkook truly deserves it after how hard he has worked this month. You can't wait to tell him. You feel like a proud mom, maybe because you see Jungkook as your protégé.

On your way back to your desk, you encounter Jungkook. His all back suit and tie enhances his charisma but the big bunny smile and scrunching nose he gives you make your heart melt in cuteness. You exchange few civilities.

"We just had the meeting regarding you guys" You tell him at some point

"Oh really? How did it go?" He genuinely asks, without even thinking about him in particular but about his four colleagues that became his friends

His sincerity moves you. He looks so much like you four years ago.

"Can I tell you a secret?" You ask with a smile and he nods

You step closer, stand on your tiptoes — Jungkook shouldn't be this tall — and whisper in his ear.

"You're the one who'll get the offer"

Jungkook looks into your eyes, surprise painted on his face. It just lasts a few second because he soon blushes hard.

"Really?" He says with a small voice, just like he was afraid to wake up from a dream if he speaks too loud

"Yes, congratulations!" You tell him

He gives you a big hug, his body completely controlled by his euphoria. You giggle and hug him back. Seeing his reaction proves you once again that he deserves it.

However, in this moment of ecstasy, you didn't notice Namjoon. He, on the other hand, is clearly aware of what's going on. He looks at Jungkook hugging you and a heavy pound is drawing down his heart for an unknown reason. When did you get this close to this intern? He knows you were in charge of him at the beginning of the month but did you keep in touch? Your bright smile caused by another man's embrace irritates him so much. What the hell is going on?

He doesn't think too much and walks — would he dare to say run? — to the two of you and clears his throat. Your pretty eyes land on Namjoon's face and you step away from Jungkook. The young man greets your boss but Namjoon doesn't really respond. Yet, he addresses you:

"You didn't forget our tryst, right?"

What?

Yes, you have planned to grab a drink with Namjoon tonight to wind down all the stressful events of the week, and it's not the first time, but it surely is the first time your boss refers to it as a 'tryst'. It's not a business meeting but it's nothing like a romantic date so why would Namjoon use such a confusing word?

"I-I didn't" You stutter, not sure what else to say

"Good, see you later then, Y/N" Namjoon replies with a bright smile that shows his dimples and leaves as fast as he has arrived, leading to an awkward silence between you and Jungkook

————

You don't know if that's because of Namjoon's words earlier but you do feel nervous while waiting for your boss. You do as always, that is to say you're standing at your desk, right in front of Namjoon's office. You know that he'll join you in a few minutes and your heart beats irregularly. You try some breathing exercices to calm you down. It works — until you heard Namjoon's steps getting closer to you. You're sure you're blushing facing his handsomeness. God, this cream-color suit with his white shirt are too perfect on him.

"You're ready?" He asks you with a smile

You nod and you two exits the building. You're heading towards your usual spot: a lounge bar not so far away from Kim Electronics building. It's not really your style, the bar being attended by rich business men and women, but you know that Namjoon likes it. It's not at all surprising since he grew up in the social elite. However, he is not haughty. He treats people right and never thinks he's superior just because he has money. To be honest, his parents made sure to teach him values and he is so thankful of that when he sees other chaebol, sons or daughters of the rich industrial South Korean conglomerate, being total dicks.

Your nervousness fades with the glasses you swallow. Four glasses of wine later, you're a little bit more than tipsy. In fact, you've drunken faster than you usually do because you didn't know how to act with Namjoon. You're now fully aware of your feelings for him but you can't say anything when he is getting married to someone's else. You sigh at that thought and drink another sip of alcohol.

"Are you okay?" Namjoon asks, worried that you haven't spoke much tonight

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" You answer but not looking at him, he knows damn well you're lying

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

The softness of his deep voice and the sudden coming closer to look at you in the eyes are a threat for your weak heart. Fuck, he is even more handsome at close range. You loose all your determination and allow yourself to get lost into his beautiful eyes. Your owns slowly make their way to Namjoon's full lips, dying to taste them. You can clearly depict his little mold under his lower lip and you crave to feel him. A fire sets up inside you and goes right between your legs. You press your thighs together because of your pussy wetness. It enhances when Namjoon pokes his tongue out to moisture his lips, making them juicier.

"Don't marry her"

What the fuck are you saying?! You didn't even realize your words until it's too late. You wish the ground below you could open and swallow you.

"What?" Namjoon's high pitch and gulp say much about his surprise

"I was joking" You attempt, faking a little laugh — you don't even believe yourself

Namjoon doesn't say anything and you feel worse. He is your friend but he is also your boss. You can't tell him not to marry Lee Ji-Eun while you know that they — unfortunately — get along and that their marriage would have such a good and big impact on Kim Electronics. You're ridiculous if you think, just for one second, that something could happen between you and Namjoon. He is way too handsome, way too important to be interested in you. You're just a mundane person. The only reason you're talking to him is because you work for his family's company.

Even though you've been knowing this harsh reality for a long time, it still hurts to remember it. Water fills your eyes and you turn your head to prevent Namjoon from noticing it. But it's too late. You feel two big and warm palms on your cheeks, gently making you look at him. A worried expression is painted on his handsome face.

"Hey, tell me what's wrong" He speaks softly, his heart breaking a little when he remarks the pain into your pretty eyes

You can't tell him the whole truth but you can say a part of it.

"It's just that... I'm afraid things will change between us, at work" Your voice breaks at the last word

It's crystal clear that everything will change after Namjoon's wedding. Would you be strong enough to see the man you love with someone else? To suffer in silence while he'll look at Ji-Eun with love eyes?

"Nothing will ever change between us, Y/N. You're not just my assistant, you're my friend" Namjoon's soft tone is supposed to release you but his words are another dragger in your heart

It's even more painful when his hands caressing your cheeks — now soaked by the tears you couldn't hold — are nothing like the sense you would like them to have. He is doing that by friendship, and you would like him to do it by love.

"I have an idea" You gulp since you have a bad feeling about what Namjoon is going to propose "Let's go hiking, with Ji-Eun. You'll see you have nothing to worry about. I'm sure you'll get along"

Fuck, that hurts. The light of affection in Namjoon's eyes when he talks about Ji-Eun is painful to watch. Even his gorgeous smile and dimples look like a deadly weapon when they're for someone's else. You swallow the lump in your throat and agree. What else could you do? So you drink more than you should to forget that you made a pact with the devil.

————

You thought about all kinds of excuses to cancel the hike but you're a terrible liar and Namjoon would have read right into your lies. For the first time in your life, you pray for a rainy day in May. However, stepping out Namjoon's car — he came to pick you up while Ji-Eun uses her own car to meet you directly at Bukhansan National Park —a bright sun is shining high in the sky on this Saturday morning. You sigh while Namjoon grabs your two backpacks with water, snacks and first aid just in case. He helps you wearing it and adjusts the straps. The brief contact of his hands on your shoulders doesn't go unnoticed by your heart. Why are you sensitive when it comes to him? You can hear your heartbeats in your ears. You're so stupid when you're in love.

"Great!" Namjoon exclaims, finding you very cute with your white cap on and your pouty face

You take a few seconds to appreciate Namjoon without his working clothes. He looks so different with his tight dark blue tank top and his black shorts, with a white cap just like you. You can clearly see his muscles flexing every time he moves. His biceps are huge, way more that you could imagine when they wrapped under the fabric of his shirts. His tank top molds his buff chest so well, you can practically count his abs. You can't deny that he's hot like that, so fucking daddy material. Imagining him being your baby daddy and the process of making it raises a wave of arousal in you. Okay, you're officially crazy...

A horn stops your fantasy. You look up to witness a big red Range Rover getting parked. It doesn't take long for Ji-Eun to step out and meet you. You put a smile on your face while your whole confidence crumbles down. Ji-Eun is so gorgeous, way more than the photos you've seen of her. Her fair skin compliments her dark eyes and hair. Her features are delicate, she looks like a china doll. Just as if wasn't enough for her to have a perfect face, she is wearing a way more appealing outfit than you. Ji-Eun could be a model for a sportswear brand: her adjusted white fake-skirt and her fitness tank top hugs her small frame perfectly.

You look down at your own cloths and frown. You should have picked something more complimenting than some oversize shorts — they actually once belong to your dad in the 1980s — and an old t-shirt from your university. You have no style. Hopefully, your hiking skills will give the change. To be true, you like hiking and since Namjoon discovered your taste in common, he has often invited you to go on a hike with him. You quite love those moments with your boss outside the office. You get to forget everything and breathe pure air for a few hours, and you talk about anything except work. You also do think that this kind of activities deepen your connection with him.

However, his fucking I'm-stupidly-in-love smile has returned and Ji-Eun blushes. You want to slap them both in the face. A burning jealousy builds inside you and you hate the feeling. It hurts to see the man you love loving someone else.

"Namjoon! I hope you didn't wait too long for me" Ji-Eun says with an annoying honey voice

Yeah, just like you weren't here.

"Not at all. Let me introduce you" Namjoon turns towards you "This is Y/N, my assistant and good friend. Y/N, you can officially meet Ji-Eun after hearing so much about her"

"Nice to meet you" You find the strength to lie

"Me too" Ji-Eun offers you a shy smile

Actually, Ji-Eun has heard of you too. Namjoon often talks about you, rather because it's related to work or — something she doesn't like much — unrelated to work. When he offered Ji-Eun to join you for hiking, she accepted thinking that she'd feel less threaten by you. However, it's worse now. She expected you to be less pretty. Ji-Eun is pretty confident about her look, that's why she didn't suggest a one-on-one date with Namjoon today. But now, she knows that it's impossible for Namjoon not to find you attractive. Maybe she should allude for Namjoon to put you in another service after their wedding? Just to keep you away from him.

"Alright" Namjoon claps enthusiastically in his hands "Let's go!"

Your little group starts hiking. At first, you cursed at yourself for wearing an ugly cap but when you see how Ji-Eun is slowly melting down under the sun, you're pretty glad with your choice.

After a few minutes, the rail gets more inclined since the Bukhansan Mount starts. The park is an attended spot of Seoul people willing to go on a trek. It's not an easy one but the delightful tensing in your legs as you feel your muscles working is a great reward. The nature, the trees, the flowers and the butterflies around you clean your lungs from the pollution of the South Korean capital.

"One step further—" Namjoon starts suddenly

"One less step later" You fill, and you both laugh

It's something you've kept saying the first time Namjoon and you went to hike. Namjoon was so tired that day that he was complaining non-stop. So you came up with this sentence to keep him motivated.

"You remember when we went to Geumjeongsanseong Fortress, in Busan?" Namjoon asks you

"Of course I remember! I thought I was going to kill you" You joke

Your hike to Geumjeongsanseong Fortress is definitely one of the most memorable moments with your boss. It was two years ago when Namjoon was assisting a major event with the main industrial firms of South Korea. Since you had one day off, you'd decided to go for a trek. You knew this trek was one of the most difficult ones: nine miles with huge stones path, almost climbing parts. The point was to visit the famous fortress. However, nothing went as it was supposed to when it started raining. Or more like pouring. You had no other choice than to keep going, careful not to break an ankle on a sliding rock. You remember damn well asking your boss if he had checked the weather and his positive respond, while he actually didn't do it.

"I've never seen you this mad" Namjoon continues

"I was but, I have to say, the path was beautiful. I don't regret it"

"I'm glad to hear that" Namjoon gives you a bright smile, remembering all the hardships you both went through to see the goddamn fortress

If you and Namjoon are sharing a good laugh, full of different memories and private jokes, Ji-Eun is boiling in rage. Namjoon used to give her his loving eyes and his genuine smile. So why is he giving them to his assistant? Ji-Eun loves to be the center of attention and right now, it's like she isn't even here. More than jealous, she feels attacked in her pride. She and Namjoon are definitely going to get married so she has to get rid of you. You're just a stupid assistant. Your family is not rich, has no relations with the social elite. In other words, you're nothing.

"Namjoon, do you have some water please?" Ji-Eun asks with a fake weak voice

She is planing to fake a weakness so Namjoon worries and focuses on her.

"Of course"

You stop so Namjoon can dig into his backpack and pull out a fresh bottle of water. Ji-Eun takes it delicately and only drinks a sip. You frown, finding it suspicious. If she were really thirsty, she would have drunk more than this.

"Could you walk next to me? I didn't take a hat, but you're tall enough to be my personal parasol" Ji-Eun giggles

She. is. fucking. annoying.

"No prob" Namjoon's usual cheerfulness shines through his sincere smile

He has no clue of Ji-Eun's deceit. You, on the other hand, are clearly aware of it. Especially when she gives you a cold glance.

You're concentrated on internally bitching on Ji-Eun, walking faster than the couple. The sunny weather is the complete opposite of your grumpy mood. You let your inner negative feelings take over you and you rip on a small rock. A vivid pain immobilizes your left ankle and you harshly fall on the ground. If your ankle weren't so painful, maybe you could have felt the hardness of the ground against your kneels and palms, causing small drops of blood forming on your freshly bruised skin.

"Arg!" You hiss when you try to stand up

"Y/N!" Namjoon exclaims as he runs to you

Worry is all over his face but it's nothing compared to all the emotions shaking his chest. He is panicked that you've hurt yourself. The little traces of blood on yours hands and knees makes him wince.

"Where are you hurt? Is it your ankle?" He asks with urgency

You nod, your eyebrows furrowing in pain. Namjoon palpates the source of the pain. He concentrates to feel anything that it's not at the right place but, thankfully, no broken bones is detected. He takes off the first aid kit off of his bag and tightly bandages your ankle.

"I think you've have sprained it" Namjoon says softly "Get on my back, you're going back"

You wince at the idea but when you're up, you quickly realize that you can't walk. You're so fucking stupid. You should have been concentrated on your steps rather than on your jealousy. Actually, more than jealousy, it's pain that you've have felt when you saw how good Namjoon and Ji-Eun looked together. They are both so beautiful and their smiles are so wide when they look at each other.

Namjoon gives his backpack to Ji-Eun who takes it reluctantly. Then, Namjoon kneels down, and you get up on his large back. He secures his forearms under your knees and stands up with no difficulty, just as you were as light as a feather.

"You okay?" He asks you as he starts walking

"Yeah, don't worry about me. Are you though?"

"Of course I am, I get to show my muscles to a pretty lady" Namjoon jokes

Your hearts skips a beat when you wonder if he meant Ji-Eun or you. It isn't really important because you feel your cheeks redden — hopefully you can blame it on the weather — and your heart enhances its pace. When you get to fill Namjoon's neck between your arms, you forget all the pain in your ankle. You love the sensation. You love his scent. You love how his big frame fit in your smaller one.

Namjoon, even if he tries to stay focus on the path not to drift and hurt you more, truly feels the warmth of your body. He also enjoys a little more than he should your boobs pressed against his back. He tightens his grip around your thighs to pull you closer and feel you better. He wishes he could hold you without the lame excuse of your sprained ankle but he knows he shouldn't even think about it. So he keeps his fantasy of his body between your legs — this time facing you — to himself and walks fast to redirect his blood from his hardening cock to his moving legs.

————

Namjoon is sitting at a coffee shop with Ji-Eun after dropping you at your home. He made sure to put some ice on your ankle and asked you one hundred times if you wanted him to stay. You declined, arguing you were tired while you just wanted to cry, knowing that the man who took care of you was destined to someone's else. Namjoon left you with heavy heart and met Ji-Eun as she proposed him.

They still have both their hiking clothes. Ji-Eun is talking about something but Namjoon has no clue since all he is thinking about is you. He wonders if you're okay, if your ankle doesn't hurt much. You looked sad when he left, causing him to grow worried.

"Are you listening?" Ji-Eun asks him with an upset tone

"Sorry, I was worried about Y/N" Namjoon sincerely answers

'You, again' Ji-Eun thinks with clenched jaws. She really has to do something. Her pride makes her want Namjoon's total attention. She is not willing to share it with someone like you. She doesn't really have feelings for Namjoon, even though he is a good looking guy, but his social status and his money are what Ji-Eun is interested in. He will make her look good and that's all she wants. And you in the frame would be like a strain on the painting.

"You know, I think you should keep your distance with your assistant" She starts, faking a worry

"What? Why?" Namjoon is taken aback

Ever since you entered his life, he has never imagined working — or living — without you by his side. He always thought you would be the one next to him when he is finally elected CEO of Kim Electronics. Not only because you play a great role in his success but also because he wants you there, as a person he cares about.

"When we get married, you'll have way more responsibilities. You will need someone with high qualifications to help you. I know someone who could help you, his name is Kim Seokjin. He went to Seoul National University, that says it all. You should hire him"

"What about Y/N?" Namjoon frowns, rage slowly building inside him

"Come on! She is not good enough for you" Ji-Eun laughs

"You know nothing about her" Namjoon snaps, instantly stopping Ji-Eun's laugh "She is the one who helped me getting the post I have now. She is the one who made me a good successor for my father. I couldn't have done it without her. More than my work, she cares about me, as a person. I think it's the best thing you could wish for an assistant and a friend. I don't care what university she went to, she's still the best person I know"

Ji-Eun stays silent for a moment, completely shocked. No one, no man has ever talked to her like that. She is used to have her natural beauty working for her. She just has to snap her fingers to get what she wants. Her ego is smashed up by Namjoon. Why? Because of you. She can't take it.

"I don't want her around when we get married" She says coldly, her tone makes it clear that it's not negotiable

"Don't make me choose between you and Y/N" Namjoon implores

"Why?" Ji-Eun provokes

"Because I'd choose Y/N. I will always choose her" He confesses, more to himself than to Ji-Eun

She made him realize that. You are the most important person in his life. He can't even imagine his life without you. If he's ready to give up his wedding with Ji-Eun just not to put distance with you, what does that mean? Does that mean he's in lo... No. You're just a good friend and an excellent assistant.

"You're an asshole" Ji-Eun says with clenched jaws "I'll be sure to tell my dad what person you're truly are"

"Go ahead" Namjoon is growing tired of Ji-Eun's attitude and pseudo-threat

With a final dramatic gasp, she leaves. Namjoon sighs, lost in all the overwhelming feelings that suddenly seem to wash over him. It's like everything he has buried for four years resurfaces but ten times bigger. So many details come back to his mind: all the little things that made him fall for you.

————

All week long Namjoon has been someway distant with you. He only talked to you about work. Actually, he was practically ignoring you. You were worried about his strange behavior, wondering if something happened between him and Ji-Eun after your shortened hiking, but didn't want to push him to say something he didn't want to. You know him well enough to say that he'll tell you when he is ready.

It's late on Friday, pretty much everyone when home but you stay: Namjoon is still here working hard. He went to meet his dad about ten minutes ago but you stayed at your desk. Since he has been a little bit down the past few days, you can't abandon him. You'll stay until he leaves. That's why you're taking care of Namjoon's mails and meetings for the next weeks as the sun slowly sets down.

"Sunbae, you still here?" Jungkook asks as he arrives at your desk, a genuine smile on his face

"Oh, Jungkook! What are you doing here? You should go out and enjoy your weekend" You tell him

"I just wanted to give a report to Mr. Kim before leaving" He answers, handing you a file

You take it and thank him. Jungkook looks very good after a long day of work, even though his black hair is a little bit messy.

"You're working late, do you want a coffee?" Jungkook gently offers you but you decline, notifying him that you'll be home soon

Just before Jungkook walks away, Namjoon comes back. His whole body tenses when he sees Jungkook smiling at you. Are you that blind not to see he's flirting with you? Or do you like it? Anyway, Namjoon surely doesn't. At all. He walks faster and opens his mouth when he arrives at your desk:

"If you're here to chitchat, you can go home, Y/N"

His harsh tone surprises you. He has never talked to you like that, even when you've made a huge mistake that costed him a billions wons contract. You want to talk back but Namjoon doesn't give you time and enters his office, not without slamming the door.

"I'm sorry if I put you in trouble" Jungkook tells you with a guilty voice, looking down in shame

"Don't worry, you did nothing wrong" You console him, a reassuring hand on his shoulder "You should go, I'll deal with him"

You two wave at each other when the young employee disappears at the end of the hallway. Your smile fades away too, anger taking over your body. You've been worried about Namjoon all week, you've been working harder to ease him and he thanks you by snapping at you? You can't stand his attitude any longer.

What you don't know is that Namjoon avoided you because, after his talk with Ji-Eun, he tried to understand his feelings. Every time he saw you, he found you prettier. It took all his determination not to kiss you and fuck you. He even had to jerk himself off at home thinking about you to control his horniness towards you. It was too much today when he saw you this morning wearing a fucking pencil grey skirt hugging your pretty ass perfectly. Your tight aubergine shirt was unbuttoned enough for Namjoon to have a peak on your bra. Vivid memories of the day he's spilled his coffee on your chest made up to his mind and he knew he couldn't resist anymore. So he went to his dad's office to announce he won't be marry Lee Ji-Eun and that another woman fills all of his heart. But when he came back, he found you giggling with another man.

You storm into his office, harshly closing the door behind you.

"What is wrong with you?" You bark more than you ask

Namjoon looks at you with a unfazed eye. He is not impressed one bit by your temper. Actually, your small frame shivering in wrath is cute.

"Nothing" He replies with a dismissive voice that drives you crazy and he focuses on his computer again

You scoff and step closer, smacking your two palms on his large desk. The loud noise makes Namjoon look at you but his face stays neutral. This is very hard to do when your slightly bent over upper body offers him a great view on your boobs. Is your bra made out of silk? That seems so soft than Namjoon's fingers subtly brush his computer mouse while he imagines touching you. Of course, you have no clue of that.

"Spill it" You say between your teeth

"There is nothing to say, Y/N"

"Really? Because you've been ignoring me all week and now you're acting like an ass"

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have to be reminded you're at work when you flirt in front of my office"

"What?! I was not flirting!" You exclaim, completely taken aback

"Sure" Namjoon talks back with his jaws clenched

"Wait" You say, making Namjoon look into your eyes "Are you jealous?" You ask with narrow eyes

"Stop talking non-sense" But his reddenned cheeks speak otherwise

"Yes, you are" You insist as you get around his desk and place yourself next to him

"I am not" He whispers, drawing his eyes back to the screen

"Look at me" You say as you grab his cheeks with your thumb and forefinger

Your breathe is cut off one second. He is way too handsome. The whole atmosphere gets heavy and tensed but not in a negative way. His lips are right here, ready to be kissed and you so fucking want it. You would like to ride his pretty face to make him pay for ignoring you all week. Your heart beats louder and faster, and your body gets hotter. Some wetness gathers in your panties. You try to keep calm but your inside is messed up by Namjoon's hotness. You gulp.

Your brain turns off the second Namjoon stands up and kisses you harshly. He moves so fast that you can't react. It doesn't really matter because you don't want to push him away. His pulp lips are so soft that you moan against them. Namjoon grabs the back of your head to kiss you deeper, his other hand presses against your lower back. You can feel his bulge and your pussy gets wetter.

Namjoon starts attacking your neck, pressing rough kisses on your throat. You're quite sure you'll have hickeys tomorrow. Your hands run through his short hair to pull him closer. Namjoon's delicate fingers work on your shirt to open it. He harshly squeezes your boob through the cup of your bra, making you wince in delight. He smiles when he confirms that it was a silk fabric, so soft under his fingers. Then, he drag down your bra, just enough to free your hard nipples. His mouth captures your sensitive tits and you throw your head back under the pleasure. You feel his teeth gently bite them and it's delightedly painful. Are you ready letting your boss tease your nipples with his tongue in his office? You're crazy. Too bad you don't give a fuck right now.

"I've dreamt about that ever since I ripped your fucking blouse" Namjoon groans between the licks he gives to your nipples

He is soft despite his harsh moves. It's almost like he wants to punish you and adore you at the same time.

Once he is satisfied with the swelling of your breasts and the little reddish marks he created on your skin, he pushes you against his desk, turns you over and finally bends you over. The cold material against your heated skin makes you shiver. You have never imagine Namjoon being so dominant but fuck! you love it. Your perfect ass is at full display for him. Only him. He slaps your cheek and the slight burn is so good that your pussy clenches.

"You drive me crazy" Namjoon whispers so low that you barely hear him but you could say exactly the same since your brain is completely fogged by horniness

He pulls up your tight skirt, exposing your cunt and ass only covered by your white — and now soaked — panties. The cold air on your burning skin mixed with the possibility of someone entering his office is so sinful that you could cum right now. The biggest wave of arousal you've ever experienced washes over you. All that caused by your boss.

The view of your ass makes Namjoon painfully hard in his pants. Fuck, he could ruin you, right now, in his office. He wants to make you scream his name while he pounds into your pussy, and if this Jungkook guy hears you, it's even better.

Namjoon kneels down and you can feel his breathing on your skin. Since you can't see him, you're even more focus on physical contacts. He first kisses your asscheek and starts rubbing your clit through the thin fabric of your panties with his thumb, making you gasp of pleasure.

"I want to eat you out" He says with a raspy voice, indirectly asking for your consent

Just imagining it makes a choked moan escape your lips and you nod frenetically. Namjoon smirks at your neediness. You're craving for his touch and he loves it. Does that mean that you want him as much as he wants you?

He wastes no time and push your panties aside. Your glistening cunt is so pretty. Seeing your arousal, caused by him, all over your pussy boosts his ego. He dives into it, taking a large strap of your juices. He applies the right amount of pressure on your clit with his tongue. It's so good that you moan his name. You feel high on horniness. Your pussy clenches when Namjoon roughly grabs your two asscheeks to spread them, giving him more access to your dripping cunt. You look so desperate, so submissive. You are fucking bent over his desk and he is eating your pussy. He fucking loves it. He didn't know how much he wanted to see you like this until now and he is not ready to stop.

"Fuck" You choke up, your right hand making its way to his hair and pulling him closer

"My girl is needy, uh? She loves when I eat her pretty cunt, right?" Namjoon teases against your pussy

How can he be so good with his mouth? His tongue licks, circles and sucks on your sensitive bud. You gasp for air when you feel your orgasm building inside you. It's true that you haven't been touched for a long time but you know damn well that if you'll cum soon it's essentially because of Namjoon's skills. He makes you feel so good, so alive that you wish you've let him touched you before. Why did you wait four years?

"I'm gonna cum" You say in a whimper

Instantly, Namjoon pulls away and stands up, making you wince.

"Namjoon!" You gasp in surprise, disappointment and frustration — you knew it would have been a great orgasm

You turn your head to meet his satisfied smirk. He looks like a predator with his lips, nose and chin glistening of your juices. The sight is so hot and you could appreciate it if he didn't deny your orgasm.

"You'll cum around my cock like a good girl" His voice is so deep and his words so naughty that your walls tighten around nothing "But first, I have to prep you" Namjoon gets closer to your ear to whisper "I wouldn't want to slit you in two"

He looks so confident, but his cock couldn't be so big, right? You don't have time to think about because two fingers slip inside your pussy. The slight stretching is so good you could cry. Namjoon penetrates you at the right pace, making sure your walls get expanded enough not to hurt you with his dick. His goal is not really to give you pleasure — even though he does. You mutter your moans with your hand as you feel his digits going in and out into you. They are making a mess out of your dripping pussy.

Once Namjoon thinks you're ready enough, he takes off his fingers out of you. They are completely glistening with your arousal and he smirks of how wet you are for him. He guides his hand towards your face and you blush when you witness how much of a pool you have between your legs.

"Open your mouth" Namjoon orders and you do

He pushes his fingers between your lips and you taste yourself. You use your tongue to clean his digits and it's so fucking hot that you feel some arousal leaking down your thighs, making you shiver.

"Good girl" Namjoon praises you, then putting those same fingers into his mouth to taste both your juices and your saliva and it's making you clench

The eye he is giving you is totally filled with lust. His eyes are so intense, you have never felt so sexy, so wanted. Your cheeks redden even more and you can't wait to feel him inside you. Your arousal is written all over your face and pussy. Namjoon wishes you could see youself like that: completely desperate for his cock. He drags down his pants and boxers at the same time, freeing his dick. And fuck. Your eyes widen for the greatest delight of Namjoon. He is big. Huge. Definitely the biggest dick you've ever seen. His fat cock, hard and proud, stands a few inches away from your pussy and you wonder how can it fit. You gulp and Namjoon laughs at your reaction.

"My girl can take it" He says to ease you, kissing your cheeks

My girl. Why does his possessiveness make you wet? You want to be his, even just for a moment, even just while he fucks you. You are pretty sure that you could let him do whatever he wants with your body right now.

Namjoon gives himself a few pumps and guides his length to your entrance. You moan when you feel his tip against your pussy. You mouth opens and your eyes shut down while Namjoon slowly pushes himself into you. It's not really difficult considering how wet you are. His two big hands settle on your hips, tightly. He is so big that you feel your pussy getting stretched. A lot. It's almost painful but it's so fucking good. He completely fills you up and you love it.

"So big" You groan, grabbing his forearm with one hand for dear life, the other one trying to catch onto something

"You're so fucking tight. Your little pussy feels so good around my cock"

Namjoon starts pounding, not so gently and enhances the pace just after a few seconds. He's rough. He lets out all the frustration of the week. Thankfully, the fabric of his pants creates a barrier between your skins that mutters the sinful sound of clapping. Namjoon tightens his grip on your hips to enter you deeper and faster. Each single bumping causes you to hit his desk, shaking everything that is on it. Your moans are so loud that if someone goes by the hallway, they'll hear you. You attempt to mute yourself by biting your lip but you don't do a really good job at it.

Your pussy gets tighter as your orgasm comes closer. Namjoon feels it and guides one of his hand around your neck to pull your back against his chest. The change of angle makes his huge cock find your g-spot. You whimper at the surprise and delight but it's so much to take, you're not sure you'll get through this alive, especially when he doesn't slow his pace one bit.

"Right here, right here!" You scream despite your choked throat, overwhelmed by the sensation of Namjoon's fat dick hardly hitting the perfect area

Your legs are so weak that he has to wrap his other arm around your waist to support your body. Between his arms, you look small and fragile although he is ramming you hardly. Namjoon's hand on your throat presses softly and you feel his heavy breathe into your ear. Your ass gets slapped by his abs at each harsh pounding. You've never been fucked so roughly and yet, you love it.

"Be mine" He says so lowly that you're not sure of you imagined it

"What?" Your eyes open in astonishment, your breathe cut off

"Be mine, Y/N" He repeats so desperately and your heart melts at the same time than your pussy

You cum so hard that you can't even let a sound leaves your open mouth. Your legs shake so much that Namjoon has to slow his pace but makes sure to stay entirely inside you. You're out of breathe and completely shaken by the fact that your boss just made you cum — the best orgasm of your life — and by his words. You slowly settle down from your high but Namjoon's cock sliding in your cunt makes you hungry again. A few second after you've cummed, you're ready for another orgasm.

"Answer me" Namjoon orders with a harsh tone that matches his harsh poundings, accentuating his words with a strong slap on your ass

"I'm yours" You moan, your eyes watering

Two big and round tears roll down your cheeks because of the harsh and delightful spanking but also because you have confessed something that you've kept so difficulty to yourself for weeks.

Namjoon tenderly kisses your wet cheek and his hand leaves your throat to caress your jaw. Fuck, he was so afraid you'd say no. His heart was pounding in his chest, and not only from his physical efforts. Now that he knows you both share feelings, he wants to fuck you deeper, just to show you how much he cares about you. Your tits bounce under his tamping.

"You're taking me so good. You're so perfect" He growls "My girl..."

"Joon" You moan, your hand going up to grab his hair, making him groan

You get, once again, so close to your high. Your pussy clenches around Namjoon's cock and he smirks. The hand that secures your waist goes down and starts rubbing your clit. It's too much for you. It's painfully delightful. The sensation is overwhelming, you almost faint out of pleasure.

"Cum around me, baby"

It's all you needed. You cum for the second time, screaming his name. The way his name rolls on your tongue when you're cumming makes Namjoon's cock twitch inside you.

"Fuck, I love you" He whispers, eyes shut down and his face coiling into your neck

Your heart is doing backflips in your chest. Namjoon loves you. Your eyes gets more watery, an overwhelming feeling of affection and love you both share is washing over you.

He gives you a few more dick strokes and hot shots of thick cum are spread on your walls. He is panting. His shirt is now completely sticked by sweat to his chest but he doesn't care. Your shaking frame is wrapped by his strong arms and he hugs you tight while his cock softens inside you. Your hands caress his forearms and your head rests on his shoulder. It's a peaceful moment after the rough fucking you've shared. You're so tired but so light at the same time. Your heart could jump out of your chest from happiness.

"I love you too, Joonie" You whisper after a few seconds of silence

You feel Namjoon smiles against your neck. He pulls out of your pussy, causing his cum to drip. He quickly pushes it back into your cunt with his fingers and you find it so hot. He replaces your panties correctly to secure it. Yeah, he could be your baby daddy and by the playful look in his eyes, you quite have the feeling he is thinking about the exact same thing.

"It's my gift" He teases you and you blush

He quickly puts back his dick into his pants and helps you with your clothes. Namjoon doesn't stop kissing your forehead, your nose, your cheeks and your lips. You giggle like a teenager when you feel so loved. You lift your eyes and meet his beautiful brown ones. They are so tender while they're looking at you.

"Let's go out for diner, I want to take my girl on a date"

"I'm your girl now?" You twit him

"Of course!" Namjoon replies as he softly captures your cheeks with his large and warm palms "You said you were mine. You can't go back now"

You smile at him, not wishing one bit to undo the tie that now links you to Namjoon. You look at his cute dimples that you can now kiss every time you want and this silly thought provides you so much joy that you wonder how you could have lived without it for four years.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts #bts namjoon #namjoon #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #kim namjoon #knj #knj smut

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runningfrom2am · 10 months ago

Text

the election // LTPF

summary: Coriolanus Snow, current President of Panem, we salute you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 1k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. this part is quite tame! idk, discussion of the games as a concept is pretty messed up? obviously r & coryo are both delusional but whats new??

a/n: y'all my country doesn't have a president so idk how tf presidential elections work so i just guessed LMAO. just a heads up.

also credit to @that-veela-girl bc she casually dropped "panem is her garden. the games are her flowers." in my replies when we talked about their future and that has haunted me ever since (in the best possible way).

based on this ask.

series masterlist // playlist

After the death of the President's son years earlier, no one had any plan on what to do when his father passed. Of course, there would have still been an election, technically, but everyone knew Felix would have won. He was raised to be the next President, but very few people knew that he wasn't the only one.

"No, Darling. You take it."

"What? No, we've always done everything together." You protest, furrowing your brow. "She's offered it to both of us, we can do whatever we want, no more waiting for her approval. We can run with it! Come on, it'll be so fun, Coryo."

"That's your dream. Not mine." He smiled at you, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

You frowned, focussing yourself on pulling the buttons of his shirt so they were perfectly aligned. "Are... Are you sure? I don't know if I can do it without you."

"You'll never do anything without me, you know that." He hummed, pushing your hair out of your eyes. "If you need help, just ask. I'm right here. Always."

"But... I don't understand, Coryo. Why not?" You pout. Sharing the position of Head Gamemaker was something you had dreamt of since the beginning of your internship together, shortly after returning from Twelve.

"Well," He sighs, shrugging slightly. "I've been pulling some strings, working my way up, and the President is on his deathbed, apparently. So I'm thinking I'll probably start my campaign soon." The smile on his face shows you he'd been planning this for a while- of course he had, for most of his life, his loved ones were telling him that would be his destiny: Coriolanus Snow, future President of Panem. You saluted him, always.

You gasp, clapping your hands together in excitement. "Really?" You smile. "That's wonderful, Love! Oh, I just can't wait!" You squeal, throwing your arms over his shoulders and jumping into his grasp as he hugged you back.

That's the beginning of the journey that has led you here. Tireless hours planning campaign events and strategies, speeches, and everything that goes on behind the scenes. You knew he was a shoo-in.

The polls had closed days ago, the results were in, and the only one who knew the results was standing in front of your husband on the stage. You sat in the front row of the expansive audience, gripping tightly onto your brother's hand with nervousness as he sat next to you. He was an adult now, nearly. You had pulled him from school today for the event, and he had changed from his academy uniform into a tux you bought for him in the car on the ride over.

You were grateful that your father had allowed you to maintain a connection with him at the very least, though you wouldn't doubt that Coryo had something to do with that. He single-handedly granted every wish you'd ever had.

Your eyes are locked on Coryo sitting onstage, but he can't risk sparing a glance your way. He would smile, and he can't have that until he's won. He carries himself with such grace, such professionalism that your cheeks flush just looking his way.

"The new President of Panem will be..." A moment of suspense, tacky, but it still makes you sweat as you pull your brother's hands into your lap, forcing him to lean in closer to ground you while you wait for the announcer to continue. "Our youngest candidate, Coriolanus Snow!"

He's on his feet in a second, and so are you as you scream with excitement, practically jumping into your brother's arms. You feel the people around you putting their hands on you, patting you in a series of excited congratulations. He had worked so hard for this. He deserved it more than anyone, you were certain.

Your excitement is only quieted when you hear your husband's voice over the loudspeakers, having taken the podium for himself. As is his right, now.

"Thank you, thank you." He says to quiet the crowd, trying to curb the wide smile threatening to form on his cheeks to keep a mature, calm one. "Thank you, wow." He chuckles, and you stay clutching onto your brother's hand as you pay attention now, sitting back down.

"It is truly an honour to be here. I have a long list of people to thank, but I'd like to keep it brief for all of your sakes. So I'll say thank you to my family, who have supported me my whole life. Most importantly, I have to thank my beautiful wife. She's done more for me than anyone could ever fully understand." He looks at you, finally, and you blow him a kiss. "Come up here, Darling. Please. I wouldn't be here without you."

You blush, more than you already were, giving your brother a quick hug as he ushers you on, the cameras tracking the two of you as he escorts you to the stairs up to the stage and holds your hand as you carefully make your way up in your heels and long, red dress. You continue to hold it up so you don't step on it as you make your way over to your husband, who is waiting with an open arm for you to slot yourself into. You do, seamlessly, planting a kiss on his cheek as the audience cheers for you. You look out over it for the first time, pride swelling like a balloon behind your ribs. This was it. This was your life now.

"To a greater Panem!" Coryo calls out, attention once again returned to the people in front of you. The people of a country that's all yours. The people of the Capitol eat it up, cheers for you morphing into a roar that inflates your ego beyond belief.

"Congratulations, President Snow." You say in his ear, loud enough so he could hear it without the microphone picking it up.

Coriolanus smiles, wider now, squeezing your side and planting a kiss on your hairline. "It's all for you." He replies. "Panem will be your garden."

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey , @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

#tbosas #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #president snow #coriolanus snow #hunger games #the hunger games #thg fanfic #thg series #thg #thg fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow lands on top #snow x reader

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copperbadge · 4 months ago

Note

Hi Sam! I wanted to ask if you feel lately like you've been getting anything positive out of your therapy, because a lot of your initial thoughts about it kind of mirror mine. I'm very logical (except when I'm upset at myself) and very skeptical, so I feel like a therapist either isn't going to tell me anything new, or that I'm going to just disregard it because I can't trick myself into believing things that I just plain don't believe.

But I'm also starting to come to a realization, two years after my ADHD diagnosis and letting go (without therapy!) of most of the executive dysfunction-fueled self worth issues I was having, that I'm kind of Not Okay in other ways. I'm safe —going to work every day and doing my job so I won't lose my livelihood and have never had a self harm urge in my life— But I'm not really okay. I'm having major self esteem issues related to my personality separate from the executive dysfunction that are putting me in a bad place. I don't want to take antidepressants for reasons I won't go into but that means my other option is therapy and... I don't know if I'm a person that therapy will actually work on. I found a lot of validation in some of your perspectives, about affirmations being bullshit and "mindfulness" exercises feeling impossible and useless, about not having an inner monologue and how that might be causing issues with traditional methods. So I was just wondering, do you feel like therapy is working now that you've been in it longer?

I've wasted a lot of money on "elective" (and ultimately useless, back to square one) medical nonsense this year and I'm not eager to waste more, but I've also met my insurance deductible so it's the best time to try it if I'm going to.

I mean, it depends on the modality a little but I don't think trying basic talk therapy can hurt, as long as you find a decent therapist. And it's better to try it now when you're feeling Mostly Okay than waiting until you are Really Not Okay. But this entire paragraph comes with a lot of context so....

A lot of what I talked about in terms of struggling with mindfulness, etc. was less related to the therapy I am still in than it was to the DBT class I took at Therapist's suggestion. We were both aware that she was basically throwing stuff at the wall to see what stuck, and while it was an interesting class I don't think for me it was helpful. As you mention, I struggled with affirmations and visualization since neurologically I'm not really set up for those; I don't think they're objectively bullshit but I do think there's an assumption within the mental health industry that they will have function for everyone and that's simply untrue, and the expectation that it will is very damaging. I also struggled with the physical-intervention aspects (called TIPP usually) which didn't work at all for me and felt frankly like doctor-approved self harm. DBT can get very culty, which set off a ton of red flags for me -- possibly false flags, but they still waved real big.

And that's because I also have a lot of trust issues surrounding therapy. To the point where, the minute one of the people running the DBT class made actually quite gentle fun of me for asking a question he couldn't answer, I checked out on anything he said. We were learning about a DBT concept called Wise Mind and I asked, "If wise mind is an identifiable mental state, how do we know if we're in it?" and when he couldn't quite answer beyond "It's different for everyone" I said, "But if we know it's real there must be some kind of common denominator, a measurable data point," and he said "Well, Sam, you're not going to levitate" and the rest of the class laughed. Sorry bud, this is almost certainly an over-reaction, but I'm me and you lost me when you came at me instead of just admitting you didn't know. (Also it turns out I just live in Wise Mind like 80% of the time which is one reason I couldn't tell.)

But basic talk therapy outside of DBT is just...you talk at someone about your problems and come up with ways to try and solve them, which is a lot more straightforward and way less frustrating. You have to be an active participant, you have to both have a goal and be willing to discuss reaching it, but that goal can be as simple as just "figure out what my mental health goals should be" at first. You don't have to learn like, vocabulary for it.

The thing is, while I have seen some improvement in regulation issues, I also struggle with basic talk therapy. Most people, and this blew my mind, see measurable improvement in nine to eighteen therapy sessions. A lot of people don't go long-term, they just are having a moment and get help getting through the moment and then can disengage, with their therapist's approval.

I was in therapy consistently from the age of nine to eighteen and only stopped because I reached legal majority and physically refused to go.

Not one minute of those nine years did I want to be there. And, because none of the three therapists I saw across those years actually explained to me why I was there or how therapy worked, for me it felt like "Your punishment for having feelings is to speedrun every feeling you had this week in an hour, to a stranger." There was also what my current therapist believes to be some extremely unethical behavior going on, which didn't help.

So it has taken actually a lot of time to get to a place where I would even allow her to understand what help I need. I've been in therapy for about a year (generally weekly but there have been some gaps) and it has only recently gotten deeper than very basic interpersonal problem-solving.

Like, two weeks ago I told her, "I had a thought this week that I couldn't tell you about something I was doing because then you'd have material on me" (meaning blackmail material) "and that's a fucked-up thing to think." And once I'd actually identified it as fucked up I had zero issue telling her about it, wasn't even nervous as I did so. Who's she going to tell? She's literally legally constrained from telling.

I think well over half of what she does is either validate that whatever emotion I'm having is normal, affirm my reactions so I don't keep believing I behaved weirdly, or praise something I've done that was a positive act. Does this work? Not always, because I'm unfortunately very aware that it's part of her job to do those things. But yeah, sometimes. Even if you don't fully believe it, "Hey that was a really smart move" is nice to hear. Sometimes she helps me come up with a plan for stressful future events or (rarely) behavior modification, and sometimes she either provides me with research or points me towards research I can do on my own. We don't do meditation or affirmations or stuff like that.

Like, last week I brought up the fact that I hadn't really ever thought about how if I have a disability that causes emotional dysregulation and I got it from my parents, they also likely had undiagnosed emotional dysregulation when raising me. So she said I should look into research on children with emotionally dysregulated parents. I was pretty annoyed by what I found (the ONE TIME adults are the focus instead of the kids is the ONE TIME I needed to learn about the kids, really?) but it led to something that was both informative and upsetting, so we discussed that. And when I was stumped about how to move forward with the information, she suggested that my general coping mechanism of writing about it was probably a good plan.

(At which point I just silently advanced my powerpoint presentation to the next slide, where I had a series of quotes from the Shivadh novels where Michaelis, acting as a parent, repeatedly does the exact opposite of the upsetting thing, because I realized even before the meeting that it's an ongoing theme in my work whenever I deal with people being parents. It's a good thing she has a sense of humor and also that I do.)

So yeah. Going into therapy you have to be ready to reject a therapist if you don't like them or if they get weird and pushy, you have to be ready to be a self-advocate, but you are the client; it shouldn't be super difficult to find someone who can at least walk you through what you want from it and agree not to do the stuff you don't want, and if you want to stop going you just...stop going.

Good luck, in any case! I hope you get what you need, whether or not that ends up being therapy.

#not yet fired from therapy #sitting in the back of DBT class

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souliebird · 8 months ago

Text

[[addict]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating Explicit

summary: Your life revolves around Matt. His does not revolve around you

Or: depression skews reality

wordcount: 5k

tags: depression, explicit sexual content, blood, angst, p in v sex, oral (male receiving)

---

Monday

You wake up alone.

This is of no surprise to you, and you force yourself out of bed despite your desire to bury yourself into your covers and stay there.

You stumble into the kitchen, feeling bleary and still half-asleep, and start the process of making coffee. You dump still warm grounds into the trash before filling the basket with your preferred blend and starting the little machine. You wash the mug lingering in the sink, then start making your breakfast.

You don't need to think about your routine as you do it - you've done it hundreds and hundreds of times. You just do it.

Coffee. Bagel. Orange.

You watch the morning news highlights, listening but not taking in the various stories that flash on your screen. Fighting in Paris, all sorts of elections, Hollywood, and political scandals - it all washes over you without leaving an impression. None of it matters to you. None of it concerns anything Matt would be involved in.

Once you finish your small meal, you clean it up and switch your laptop over to your work VPN.

It is nothing glorious. You translate legal documents from English into Spanish as a contractor for a handful of firms around the city. Very rarely is it anything of interest - a majority of it is human resources based - but it makes good money, and you don't need to commute. You stay in the apartment most of the day, trying your best to make it into a home.

As you think over word choice, you do chores. Laundry gets hauled down to the basement, the sink and shower get a deep clean to wash away any trace of blood, and you write out a grocery list. You dust and air out the apartment between paragraphs. You don't exchange many emails. You don't get any calls.

The hours pass in silence until your phone alerts you it is a quarter after five. You shut down your VPN and return to the kitchen. Chicken, rice, and vegetables will be tonight's dinner - you know it is a favorite and you've worked out the unspoken schedule to know this is the ideal day to serve it. You work quietly, half focusing on your knife work and half zoning out.

Five minutes to the hour, the door to the apartment opens and Matt is home.

“That smells wonderful, sweetheart,” he says as a greeting, dropping his things off at the front door. You can hear his practical movements as he puts everything in its right spot.

“It should be done in ten minutes,” is your soft reply. That is just enough time for him to get settled in and drink about one third of a beer. It took you a few weeks to get the scheduling down right, but now you have it down to an art for various recipes. “How was your day?”

Without completely breaking attorney-client privilege, he tells you about the ongoings at the office and catches you up on whatever happened with Foggy and Karen over the weekend. As he does, he loosens his tie and takes a seat at the table. You place an ice-cold open bottle in front of him without fanfare, then flit back to the kitchen.

Dinner switches the conversation to Daredevil. Matt tells you his plan for the night and you silently convert his words into future actions for yourself. He's going out with Jessica, which means more surveillance than fighting. You'll need to have ibuprofen ready, as spying tends to stress his senses rather than his body.

You get a kiss before he goes to do his pre-Devil work out and another before he ascends the stairs to go into the night. He tells you not to stay up, but it's part of the script and you both know you'll be waiting for him right where he left you.

Tuesday

“Foggy isn't going to believe me,” Matt grumbles as you gently pat concealer around his eye, covering the blooming bruise.

“It's just absurd enough to be believable.”

“But it's the truth,” he huffs before his lips turn into a pout, “How does it look?”

You step back and examine the man in front of you. He has the start of a massive black eye and you can't help but feel bad for him. For once, this is not a Devil related injury - there was a freak accident with the shower. The water pressure in the building has somehow been cranked to maximum and your poor pipes are not equipped for that - the threads holding them together are barely there. They had no chance against suddenly being slammed into and there was no way Matt could have been prepared for the shower head to shoot off the wall and right into his face.

You frown and your mood must shift because he deflates, “Foggy is not going to believe you.”

You set the makeup you specifically got to cover up his nightly hobby aside and push Matt's coffee towards him. He takes a long sip from it before throwing his head back with a groan.

“I've been doing so well,” he complains. There is some sort of swear jar-esque deal the two of them have going on about Matt's bruises, but you don't know all of the details. You do know Matt's lost a fair bit of money from it, though.

You pat his shoulder sympathetically before getting up and heading towards the kitchen to finish packing up his meals for the day, “This doesn't count.”

“Will you tell that to Foggy?”

“I'll tell that to Foggy,” you promise.

You see him get up in the corner of your eye and disappear back into the bedroom to get dressed for work and you can't help but sigh. You'll give Matt's friends a heads up text so they don't freak out on him. Misunderstandings are bound to happen otherwise and they'll probably all have a laugh about it once the Devil's Pride is soothed.

You finish up packing lunch, a midday snack, and the ingredients for a hearty protein shake. Matt will be going to the gym right after work today, then from there will go out as the Devil. You aren't keen on him carrying his black suit around in his gym bag, but it's not something you're going to argue with him about.

With how busy the office has been lately; he's been a bit scatterbrained about the smaller things.

You've convinced him to at least drop off his bag on the roof as he starts his patrol, so he doesn't leave his day clothes at Fogwell’s overnight. You'll go up and collect them at some point, so they don't end up staying up there and getting forgotten about.

You won't see Matt again until he comes home to sleep.

You hope you'll be able to figure out how to fix the shower by then.

Wednesday

You put away the last of the clean dishes, then turn to face the apartment in front of you.

It's a beautiful day and light is streaming in through the windows, highlighting how stark everything is. Your laptop is waiting for you on the table, along with a mental list of things you need to get done today.

But you don't want to.

You don't want to do any of it. You don't want to do anything. You don't want to think. You don't want to feel.

You just don't want to.

So you wipe your hands on a dish towel, then make a bee line right back to bed and crawl in. You curl on your side, place your phone on Matt's pillow, close your eyes, and just Don't.

You drift in and out until your bladder starts to demand you get up, so you do. You use the restroom then return to bed, checking your messages as you settle back in.

There's one from Matt, asking if you would like Thai for dinner. You have no will to think about what you'd like to eat - honestly you don't want anything - so you tell him that Thai sounds great. You double check your alarm is set, then return to your nothingness.

It's easy to get lost in Blankness. It's nice to not feel anything. The crushing negativity you are so used to is gone and all your disgusting thoughts are silent.

You don't simmer in doubt that every action is wrong.

You don't question why your life revolves around Matt. You don't think about how you would crumble without him or how he'd be fine without you.

You don't consider what love is to him and how deeply rooted it is in just staying. You don't wonder if he just doesn't want to be alone again.

You don't feel completely consumed in your feelings.

You just are.

Sometimes, you wish you could stay like this forever - suspended in emptiness.

But then your alarm goes off and you have to be human again.

You check your messages to make sure you really did get a text about dinner, then finally drag yourself to go shower.

You have to be presentable before Matt returns.

He doesn't comment on your still wet hair or lack of conversation. You eat in mostly silence, occasionally commenting about the food.

Karen calls as you're gathering up leftovers to go into the fridge. Whatever she has to say to Matt has him swearing and going to the wardrobe to start getting his suit out. You don't ask what is wrong, you simply gather up the dress shirt he tosses towards the couch as he begins to change.

He doesn't kiss you as he rushes up the stairs.

He doesn't tell you to not wait up.

The door slams shut as he disappears into his own Darkness, and you sit on the couch to await his return.

There is no silence. The city mocks you with each siren, scream, and honk.

Thursday

You're putting away groceries when your phone alerts you to a text.

It's from Matt and simply states, “I hate baseball bats.”

A small noise of sympathy comes up from your chest. He had gotten a few good whacks with one last night to the point he let you wrap his chest. Luckily, nothing had been broken, but it had not been a pretty sight.

You've already put the ice packs in the freezer for when he gets home. You don't think he'll be going out tonight if he's actually admitting he is in pain.

Maybe you can listen to the next few chapters of the audio book you've started together instead. The thought makes your stomach turn in a nervous hopeful way.

You return his message with an inside joke of sorts, typing out the words, “Baseball bat emoji. Heart break emoji.”

He replies back seconds later with, “Sad face emoji.”

It pulls a little smile to your lips, and you think about Matt dictating the text to his phone for the next hour.

Friday

“You smell so good,” he purrs as he nuzzles against your neck, his scruff scratching you just lightly.

You tilt your head to the side to give him better access and you can practically feel his pleased hum in your chest. His fingers dance at the hem of your shirt, pushing under to barely just feel your skin. He's got you crowded against the front door, so all of him overwhelms you while he teases.

He's been like this all night. As soon as you stepped into Josie's, he had his hands all over you - your thigh, your lower back, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He's only had two beers, but they have loosened up his tense shoulders quite a bit.

You know what he wants and you're more than happy to indulge. You've been craving his touch. His attention.

You don't care if it's a quickie before he leaves you to belong to Hell's Kitchen again, you just need something from him.

Anything.

You dig your nails into the shoulder of his suit jacket and whine out your inner desires, knowing he'll give in when he's like this, “want to get on my knees for you.”

He moans in response, grinding against you to let you know how much he also wants that, and you lower yourself down to be trapped between him and the door. Skilled hands make quick work of his belt, and you don't bother to push his pants and briefs down. You get his half hard cock free of its confines only to swallow it.

Above you, Matt throws his head back his head, gritting out a long low, “Fuck.”

You give him no time to adjust, knowing exactly what he likes in these moments, and begin to work him over. One hand grips his tree trunk of a thigh and the other loosely circles around the base of his cock - the first keeps you steady and the second from him slipping out of you.

You focus on his head, pushing your tongue up as he slides out of the depths of your throat, then swirling it before you begin to suckle. He buries his fingers into your hair, swearing more, as you do so. That only encourages you and you begin to pump him as you work to get him to full hardness.

His musk is dotted with the saltines of precum, and your mouth begins to water. You do nothing to stop the drool gathering in the corners of your mouth and let it spill out as you enjoy yourself.

Self-control is out of the question - the moment Matt’s hips begin to twitch, you encourage it, tugging at his thigh. He doesn't need to be told twice.

You close your eyes and relax your jaw as he starts to fuck your throat.

All of you becomes encompassed in him. He's all you feel, all you smell, all you taste, all you hear.

He grunts and groans as he thrusts in and out of your mouth, holding your head steady so you can't chase him as you want to. You want to be held down; his cock buried deep in your throat until the heaviness of him is imprinted on your tongue. You want him to coat your insides with him, so you never forget his taste.

You want him to use you and that's exactly what he does.

“Fuck, sweetheart, fuck,” he chants, and you don't want him to stop. He's not ruthless, but he isn't kind with it, barely giving you a chance to breathe between each movement, and making your brain start to blink in and out of awareness.

You feel him start to twitch and pulse along your tongue and you whine in distress around him.

You don't want this to end so soon. You need him. You need this.

Before you can process what is happening, Matt is pulling you back up into standing and directly turning you to face the door. Your brain automatically clicks with what he is doing, and you scramble to undo your pants. You barely get them unbuttoned before he is yanking them and your panties down your thighs.

You arch your back with anticipation as he lines himself up. You expect him to tease you, to rub the head of his cock over you to spread around the juices you've soaked your panties with, but he doesn't. He pushes into you in one smooth motion and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

He grabs you by the throat from behind, just under your chin, and turns his hand so he can also stick two of his fingers into your mouth and continue to make you drool. You're practically pinned to the door as he slams into you over and over, hitting that sweet spot each time.

“So fucking wet,” he growls into your ear, squeezing your throat just enough to make your vision go spotty. “About to cum from just sucking on my cock. Don't even need to touch you, do I? You'd be happy being my little cock warmer.”

You would. You yearn for it - sitting under his desk while he works, keeping him happy. You just want to be with him. You need him.

You need him.

He breathes your name, then demands, “Cum on my cock.”

Saturday

Matt has taken the spot at the dining table while you've curled up on the couch. You both have your respective workstations set up and have been buried in reading for hours.

A strange, pleasant calm has washed over you and wrapped you up in a lightness.

These are the days you dream of.

Soft, quiet mornings where you can just be with Matt - there's no distractions or chaos or vigilantism. It is just the two of you, together.

Whenever he has gotten up to get something, on his way back to his seat - he always makes sure to check in on you all and it sends your brain into an absolute tizzy. Acknowledgement from him makes you feel warm in so many ways. You don't think you could ever get enough of the way he says your name when he wants your attention. It's like an angel’s song - or the Devil's.

You know it won't last long - he has a meeting with Foggy after lunch to meet some people who can't meet during the week - so you bask in what you have. You've been stealing glances all morning because you love to watch him work. He gets this little crease between his brow when he's listening to a transcript, and it really is the cutest thing. You just want to go over and kiss it and remind him to relax his forehead.

But you know he's so very busy and you don't want to distract him with something so silly. He barely has enough time in the day as it is, between all the ways he helps the people of Hell's Kitchen, and lately he's just been adding more and more to his plate - more clients, more patrols, more everything except you.

You aren't jealous. You know how needed he is and you are grateful to be in his life at all. You get to be the one to take care of him and be in his bed at the end of the night, even if you spend many of those nights alone.

It just makes moments like these so much sweeter.

So, when he gets up again and heads to the kitchen, you can't help but turn and watch him. He starts another pot of coffee, and your eyes just go heart shaped as you admire how his shoulders move under his shirt.

��Anything interesting?” He asks with a bit of cockiness, and you know he's aware you aren't focused on your work.

You place your chin on the back of the couch and hum, “This company has one of the best sick leave policies I've ever seen. Think I might quit my job and go raise plants in Arizona.”

Matt snorts at your answer and teases, “Do you know anything about raising plants?”

“For three weeks guaranteed paid vacation and two paid sick days a month, I'll learn.”

He turns to face you, tilting his head to one side in disbelief, “Two paid sick days a month? What is the catch?”

You nod, then pretend to huff, “You have to live in the middle of nowhere Arizona.” Matt makes a face of disgust, and you laugh into your hand, a smile blooming across your face, “That's why I'm only considering.”

“I'm glad, I'd prefer it if you stay here. I'd miss you too much if you were in the middle of nowhere Arizona.”

You spend the rest of the day practically glowing over Matt admitting he'd miss you. The words will live in your heart and head forever.

Sunday

You've never been stalked and hunted by a wild animal, but this is what you imagine it would feel like.

The Devil has come home earlier than expected and it looks like he crawled his way out of Hell. He's in his black suit, or what's left of it, and is covered in his own blood. His nose is dripping, probably broken, staining his mouth red. His shirt is barely hanging together and various fresh shallow cuts litter his torso. His Muay Thai ropes are dirty with grime and what you expect to be others’ blood.

He slowly came down the stairs from the roof then began to circle around the couch, each step deliberate and calculating, and he has not let up.

The air in the room is so heavy. You can't breathe because you don't have a protocol for this. You can't tell if he's angry or upset - he hasn't said a word and he's not expressing himself in any way, but Danger is exuding from him.

You sit straight backed on the couch as the Devil continues his path around you, his head tilting in different directions ever so slightly. You don't know if he's tracking something or waiting for some sign. You can't tell when he's like this.

Finally, he stops in the spot halfway between the couch and the bedroom, only partially angled towards you. He begins to undo the ropes stabilizing his wrists, letting them drop to the ground without acknowledgment. You watch them like they are snakes, ready to slither at you with an attack. His gloves quickly join the pile, but then he raises a hand towards you, palm up like he wants you to take it.

He confirms his intentions with a low, “Come here.”

You're worried and confused with how he is behaving, but you don't dare disobey the Devil.

You slip out of your seat and make your way to him in silence, reaching to take his hand when you get close enough. To your surprise, he brings it up to his face and places a light kiss to your wrist, over your pulse point.

“Do you know who I am?” He asks, voice low and laced with an unsaid promise.

A shiver runs up your spine and you manage to answer, breathing out, “Matt Murdock. Daredevil.”

He pulls his lips back into a snarl and you fear you've got the question wrong somehow.

Keeping your hand in his, he steps towards you, one achingly slow step at a time, until you are practically chest to chest. He dips his head and brushes the tip of his nose against your neck. You can hear him inhale.

“I hear their frightened little whispers. I hear what they call me - not just the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. King of Hell - this is my territory and I protect it with a ferocity,” he whispers into your skin. You close your eyes and try to keep your breathing from going shaky.

It is not just fear and confusion coursing through you now. His words, his rasping, is going straight to your cunt. You haven't encountered The Devil in so long you've forgotten what it does to you.

He presses his free hand against your lower back, moving you so you are flush against him. Your hand goes to his chest, just under his shoulder where his shirt is still intact and not sticky with who knows what.

“Do you know what that makes you?” he growls against you and all you can do is shake your head.

You don't interact with many people, and you doubt anyone in Hell's Kitchen is talking about you.

You are of no interest to anyone.

The Devil bumps his nose against your earlobe before giving it a light nibble and telling you, “My Queen of Hell.”

Air catches in your throat and it feels like your entire being short circuits. What does he mean, you're his Queen?

You've never done anything to deserve such a title, but you aren't going to disagree with him. If he wants to call you this, you will relish in it.

As you are still trying to process things, you are suddenly lifted into the air by your thighs, and you have to quickly wrap your legs around the Devil so you don't start flailing. Like you weigh absolutely nothing, you are carried to the bedroom and with care you do not expect, laid out on the bed.

The Devil, mask, boots, batons, and all, crawls over you, going straight for your throat. He starts with his lips but quickly dissolves into dragging his tongue and teeth wherever he can get. It's slow, methodical, like he has a goal with his lavishing.

You don't care about his intention - you are melting into the bed under him, desperate for him to not stop. Whatever he is doing, whatever has got him in this mood, you want more of it.

Hesitantly, fearing you might disrupt the atmosphere, you wrap your arms around the body above you, one hand going to scratch at the back of his neck, trying to silently encourage more attention to your neck. He obliges and teeth scraping against you turns into biting. He wastes no time in leaving his first mark on you, then another, and another.

“You're mine,” he tells you as he starts on the other side of your throat, “Belong to me. You're mine.”

You arch at the words, cunt clenching around nothing. He is correct. You are his - you've belonged to him the moment you met, and you will until the day you die.

He is your everything.

“I'm yours,” you agree, barely above a whisper.

The Devil drags his lips from your neck only to crash them into yours. It's like being pulled under by a wave - a force you can only just accept and go with. He tastes like smoke and copper, but you don't care. You only want more.

You want to be consumed.

And it feels like that is what he does. You kiss until you feel like you can't possibly breathe any longer, then he is pulling away to start moving down your body. He pushes your shirt up to start a trail of kisses and bites towards your stomach.

“My Queen,” he growls, and you can only throw your head back with pleasure at his words, his actions, “My Persephone. Mine. Whatever you want, it's yours. Anything. Give you Fisk's head on a platter. Or do you want his heart? I'll rip out his throat with my teeth for you.”

You want to comment it looks like he already has, with the state he came in in, but all you can manage to say is the truth.

“I just want you.”

Your shirt is pulled off and tossed to the side before he is on you again, biting at your lips as he does what you want. He grinds his cock into you, and you can feel just how hard he is. You tug at the remains of his shirt, and it is also quickly discarded.

You can feel him moving over you, probably trying to get out of the rest of his armor, but you don't pay attention. All your focus is on the way his mouth is moving with yours - dominating and controlling and firm but in no way actually hurting you.

Nothing to ever hurt you.

When he pulls back, he does so enough to sit up.

You whine at the loss of his touch, but it is balanced when he finally removes his mask, and you can see his beautiful face again.

It's a little sick, but you like him like this - bruised and battered and bloody. You like the physical reminders of who he is and what he is capable of.

You reach up to press your hands to the mottled skin around his ribs, still healing from the baseball bat. He hisses at the contact, but his now free cock gives a violent twitch. You know which reaction to trust.

Your sleep shorts and panties are unceremoniously removed, and you and the Devil are left nude. You are hauled up to be on your knees with him and once again you are held against his chest. He cups your jaw with both hands and kisses you firmly.

“Take such good care of me,” he mumbles between nips and bites, “Let me take care of you, my Queen.”

You want that.

You want him to take care of you - to focus on you - to be his everything. You desperately nod against him, shaky whispers of “please” coming from you.

He lays you back down and guides himself into you with far more care than you'd expect in the moment. It's steady until he's fully sheathed in you, then he is over you again, burying his face into your neck.

“Mine.”

“Yours.”

He starts moving then, slow, steady, and deep, like he's trying to savor every roll of his hips.

It's heady and with the way he's back to worshiping your neck, you're quick to sink into a place of pure bliss only he can send you.

He starts to mumble against you as he devours you. You hear catches of your name and ‘my Queen’ and ‘mine’, but you hear something about Sin and love and need. Your brain refuses to link the words together and you don't need it to understand them right now.

You just need Him.

You roll your head to the side so he can dig his teeth into a new spot and through half lidded eyes, you spot the mirror you've added into the room. Using it, you watch the Devil make love to you, his body half shrouded by shadows.

He's so fucking beautiful.

As your thighs begin to tremble and pressure builds up in your core, you notice smears of darkness on your face, your neck, and your arms.

It is the same darkness that the Devil is drenched in.

He's covered you in his blood.

You're coated with him.

Inside and out.

The realization sends you over the edge and you scream his name for all your subjects to hear.

Monday

You wake up alone.

This is of no surprise to you.

a/n:

I see this with multiple interpretations ;)

a/n2: theres not a baseball bat emoji

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #gently places this down

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brucewaynehater101 · 6 months ago

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Tim drake ruler of worlds

Ok I am an outsider but I think ppl are focused too much on the brucequest. Imagine the comedic potential of none of the batfam knowing but the loa does. Damian arrives and shows respect to Tim bc even the demons heir knows when they are outclassed (by several planets worth of people). Batfam + jl don't realize this until a force appears that overtakes planets and sees Tim. Tim says "fuck off". They promptly fuck off. What the jl doesn't know is that they only overtake weaker planets without a good defense. Planets Timmy has multiple planets to act as a defense and should not be counted. He wouldn't ask them but the second those planets hear of the threat to their beloved rulers planet???? They shall take this strain from his shoulders!!! He has done so much!!! (What if he thinks we are too much work) We can do this small act for him!!!

They hear of one (1) threat and are like but what does he get from ruling us?? (Mental health boost from millions saying how great he is, stress relief tbh, the ability to take days off while he feels like he's still being useful). We Will Keep Our Overlord!!!!

Better if they have longer lifespans and so Tim being 17 is like.. Smart Baby!! Babey so clever!! We love him!! Earth babies are clearly such good rulers!!! We should recommend?! But wait?? He tries to KILL earth?? THATS WHERE OUR BELOVED BABY RULER IS??

Tim is like people electing a bear to president because it clearly can't make anything worse right? But then he makes it BETTER?!??!??

I fucking love this so so much. I can't with them electing him for the morale boost (baby for overlord), and Tim somehow doing well anyways.

Just planets of people who love their mascot overlord who actually does really good work.

Also, you are correct that Damian (and LoA) knowing about Tim from the get-go would be such a juicy twist! Like, Damian would try to befriend Tim instead. He would try to establish a friendly relationship and connection for the purpose of having him on Damian's side when Damian takes over the LoA or Batman's mantle.

I bet Talia has trained Damian in business relations and how to manipulate people onto your side. Damian would try these tricks (there can still be some conflict with Tim being Robin) and notice months later that they somehow became brothers. Oh well. Tim's proven to be a formidable ally. For those who hurt his family? He's a terrifying opponent. It's truly better this way (and not that he'll admit it even to himself, but he also cares about Tim at this point).

Since Damian knows about the planets and they have a friendly relationship, Tim would take Damian with him sometimes when he visits. He'd show him some of the ropes (training useful for WE or LoA) and implement ideas Damian proposes.

Then! Your whole JL and invading forces ideas??? Fuuuudge. I love that shit so much. I just love dramatic reveals like that

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #dc au #ruler of worlds au #thank you for the ask!!!!

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my-castles-crumbling · 5 days ago

Text

Hi all!

I know most people living in the US right now are very nervous about the results of the upcoming Presidential Election. (I'm very nervous as well). Remember:

If you CAN vote, PLEASE vote. Don't put it off, even if you are in a state that isn't a swing state.

Make sure your ballot is submitted, and if you suspect there are any issues regarding your ballot or vote, report them. Here is a website with info about reporting voting crimes.

DO NOT take a picture of your ballot. In some states there are laws regarding posting pictures of your ballot, so please don't risk your vote not being counted.

Even if you are not old enough to vote/cannot vote, you can remind others to vote. Remind them how important it is to do so!

Don't panic! The results of the elections will be 'called' a hundred different times by a hundred different news stations on the day of the elections. Wait until official announcements before counting anything as true.

Have a plan! No matter what the results are, have a plan for people to talk to. My inbox is open any time!

#election 2024 #presidential election #us elections #voters #2024 presidential election #ask #asks #ask cas

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months ago

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I've been thinking about this for a while. May I request Kerian battling a "snow on Mt. Silver" Reader? Reader was the strongest trainer at Blueberry academy and champion of the BB league until they willingly handed off the title to Drayton and climbed to the highest point in the polar biome to wait for a strong challenger. Kerian, upon becoming champion, gets wind of them and decides to battle them. Things go bad quickly as reader is a ghost/corpse. Kerian does get rescued but is traumatized.

Oh this is a GOOD concept,,,give him that near-death trauma waaaaay before he even learns about terapagos

Also ik the weather conditions in the terarium are all simulated, but let's just say it malfunctioned and resulted in an actual blizzard at the very peak of the polar biome that killed reader + their Pokémon off (yet no one knows this)

......

"Have you heard from [y/n] lately, Drayton?"

"Nope. Last time I checked, they're still chilling at the Polar Biome peak, waiting for a "worthy challenger"."

"Was that pun intended?"

"...maybe, haha. But y'know, I kinda miss seeing their face around campus. I mean..they were our club's first champion, and to this day I still don't know why they handed the title over to me and bailed on-"

"Hold on, there was a champion before you and...you didn't even fight them for the title? No wonder I was able to beat you so easily."

"Oh great, just the person I hoped to see." With a dry chuckle, Drayton turned his head only slightly upon seeing Kieran approaching the clubroom's table with a deep scowl, eyes bleak.

Of course, the new champion of BB Academy believed he had every right to barge into the Elite Four's conversations--given he was having a bit of a "power trip" ever since gaining the title yesterday.

But the dragon trainer elected to ignore him, instead turning back to the others. "Anyways..I'm sure [y/n]'s already moved onto better things. No way could they still be up there after all that weird stuff happened with the weather."

"You mean..the time there was an actual blizzard in the terarium??" Lacey gasped, before shaking her head and making an "x" pose. "Bzzzt. Nope. Impossible. They sent a search and rescue team in case anyone in the outdoor classroom got stranded up there. And they didn't find a soul!"

"Yeah!" Crispin nodded in agreement. "I get they were the strongest trainer in this entire school, but why would they risk-?"

"I'm sorry, they're the strongest? Why am I only hearing about this [y/n] now?"

With a small yelp, he turned to the purple-haired boy. "Wah!! I-I totally forgot you were here, sorry.." He mumbled, slightly cowering under his harsh gaze. "Obviously you're the strongest! [Y/n]'s not important..d-don't worry about them. They're history-"

"But you all seem pretty convinced they're still here." Kieran's eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the group. "And you just told me where I might find them." He clenched his fists, already shaking with anticipation.

"Easy there, champ.." Drayton huffed in annoyance. "It's only a rumor that they're still hanging around. They weren't much of a talker, so we have no clue where they are. Could be in another region for all we know."

"..........."

"Don't tell me....you're thinking about charging up that mountain all by yourself to see if they're there, are you? That's suicide."

"I have to agree with Drayton." Amarys nodded. "The staff is still trying to determine the cause of the anomalous weather patterns. We aren't banned from venturing up there, but until they can find a solution, it's ill-advised."

"Exactly!" Lacey joined in. "I heard one of the rescue team members had to get treated for frostbite. And it wasn't from some ice-type Pokémon, but the blizzard itself. This is serious, Kieran!"

"....I'll be fine. Your scare tactics won't work on me."

"Huh?! But we're not-"

"Enough. I'm gonna go find them myself, seeing as you're all too cowardly to do so." The champion sneered. "If a worthy challenger is what they're after, then I'll give them one. I'll let them know there's a new champion in town..and that he's the strongest trainer in this academy. Not them."

With that, he turned on his heel and left the room, mumbling under his breath things that made the four feel uneasy.

"How pathetic. The Elite Four..scared of a little snow and ice? Whatever. I'll show them. I'll show [y/n]. I'll show them ALL..."

After the doors slammed shut behind him, they felt the tension still lingering in the air--as did every other club member who was hanging out on the sofas and by the BP computer.

"Man." Drayton broke the silence, sitting up to stretch his arms. "That kid catches wind of some random stranger who's just a little stronger than him, and boom. He's obsessed. Hope he doesn't get himself killed up there."

"Should one of us go after him?" Lacey muttered in concern, her gaze not leaving the doors.

"I-I think that would make him angrier.." Crispin shook his head. "He's got an Incineroar, so maybe it'll keep him toasty."

"That is true. He could also either confirm or deny [y/n]'s presence atop that mountain." Amarys spoke up. "I only hope he properly prepares himself for the long journey..and that no other weather anomalies arise.."

..........

"They weren't kidding..i-it's freezing...but we're doing this, Incineroar."

"Cinn.." Huffing, the Heel Pokémon remained beside its trainer as the two made their ascension towards the summit. They couldn't see any rest spots nor healing centers below them due to the snowfall being so heavy.

Even the teraglobe was barely visible.

Yet Kieran was persistent as ever in his goal, keeping his jacket zipped up and Incineroar close to him. He didn't care about the fact his hands were already growing numb, nor the cold biting at his legs leaving them weak.

He was the new champion. He had to let everyone in this school know and defeat whoever could threaten the position he worked so hard to achieve.

If not [Florian/Juliana]..then it was you.

You're someone he's never even met, but knowing you were the very first BB League champion and had a big-enough ego to come up here and wait for a strong challenger...was something he couldn't turn a blind eye to.

No.

Not if he wanted to be the best in this entire school and eliminate any competition.

Absolutely nothing was gonna stop him.

Not even the fact that his Incineroar's flames were struggling to stay alive, gradually exhausting the feline as it struggled to keep up. It began having chills itself, although it knew better than to disobey its trainer when he demanded to keep the fire going.

Surely it can tough it out for him, right?

After what seemed like an eternity, Kieran finally reached the top of the mountain and saw you: the lone figure waiting for them both. Much of the snowfall had already cleared up allowing him to see you in a cap that concealed your eyes and a BB Academy uniform.

You were looking at something up in the sky, until you heard the sounds of shuffling and turned around, looking down with surprise at the challenger.

This kid...came up all this way to see you? Impressive.

His Incineroar looked a little worse for wear, the flames around its belt dying out, yet it stuck close to its trainer's side as he stared at you with a cold hard gaze.

"Are you [y/n], former BB League Champion?" He questioned.

"........."

"Not much of a talker, huh? Guess they were right. I'm Kieran, or better yet..Champion Kieran."

Although you barely gave a response aside from a slight tilt of your head, he just smirked. "Yeah, you heard me. I'm the new champion and president of the League Club, not that dumb dragon tamer. Because unlike him, I worked hard to earn this title. I don't wait around for things to be handed to me on a silver platter."

".........."

"You think being champion is a joke? Something you can just pawn off to somebody when you get bored of it?"

"........."

"I thought so. That means you never deserved the title to begin with.." He scoffed, irritated by your silence. "Anyway, they said you were the strongest, but I'm here to change that!" Pointing up at you, he shouted over the wind. "You wanted a worthy opponent..well HERE I AM!!! Incineroar, Porygon-Z...show them the power of a true BB League Champion!!"

He took out his Virutal Pokémon's pokeball, ready to send it into battle.

But it didn't come out after he tossed it to the ground.

"...huh?" Confused, Kieran picked up the pokeball, wondering why it wasn't opening. Then he noticed frost coating the button, practically icing it over entirely. "No, no, no.....what is this?!"

For some reason it was jammed, and he discovered that all the other pokeballs in his bag were like that, too, rendering them inaccessible.

But how?

It shouldn't be possible for all of them to freeze simultaneously...their insulation should be top-tier.

Brushing off his worries, he glared at you. "Whatever. I can win a single-battle, too! I've developed strategies for this. Incineroar, it's all up to you now"

Nodding, the Heel Pokémon cracked its knuckles and stepped forward. But as it looked at you, it began shivering all of the sudden, feeling a drastic drop in temperature as the flames on its belt struggled still.

It wasn't just the weather giving it chills..but you.

Something about you just seemed...off, but it couldn't exactly tell its trainer what that was. Nor would he probably care.

Whether it liked it or not, it had to win this battle.

Wordlessly, you stepped down so you could fight on equal ground and took out a single pokeball. It was covered in frost, with much of the red paint faded, and it looked awfully damaged--especially the button.

Yet somehow it was functional as you sent out your first Pokémon.

And the sight of it was so grisly, Kieran felt genuinely nauseated, unable to do anything except stare in shock.

"Wh...What the..."

It appeared as a sickly frostbit creature, with its colors dull and empty sockets in place of its eyes. Not to mention the heavy wounds littering its body, which seemed fresh. It's like you ran out of healing items and never bothered to look for any more.

And its cry was pained.

Considering how much Kieran himself loved and treasured Pokémon, he was gravely concerned and had second thoughts about fighting one in such a horrible state...

But that little voice in his head told him that refusing to fight your team would make him look weak. You'd probably think he was weak for backing down.

And he refused to do that.

Why was he suddenly so afraid? You were only trying to scare him, just like everybody else...and he was fed up with that.

He came this far. He had to finish this.

"You...think your Pokémon can battle in that condition? Looks like they can barely stand." His eyebrows furrowed. "No matter. Once I beat you, I'll take them off your ha-"

"Struggle."

A hoarse whisper escaped your lips, stunning him as he realized you could actually speak. But then your Pokémon suddenly threw itself at Incineroar, attacking and taking a good deal of recoil damage as it fainted soon afterwards.

Or rather...

It simply dropped to the ground and ceased all motions, with you making no move to recall them. Instead you just sent out your next party member.

Kieran tried not to think about why they did that, and just scoffed at your strategy. "Really? This is what the "strongest" trainer is capable of? I expected better..I'll beat you in no time at all."

Yet you didn't seem fazed by anything he said, as you commanded your Pokémon to use Struggle, too.....and every other one after that did the same thing.

What frustrated him the most was how they all managed to outspeed Incineroar, forcing it to endure every hit without getting a chance to retaliate. It felt so unfair, and he couldn't do anything except sit and watch, feeling his blood boiling more with each passing second.

He didn't know why you exhausted all of your team's moves, why you wouldn't give him a chance to strike back....or why you're even up here at all and allowed them to get this bad.

But he knew one thing.

He wanted to get off this mountain soon.

The snowfall was growing heavier again, the howling wind picking up as the temperature kept dropping.

"Stop! Just stop for a second!!" He snapped as you readied your final pokeball. All you did was pause and stare at him. "You haven't given me a chance to attack yet! And I'm locked out my pokeballs...this isn't fair! You're cheating!!"

"..it's almost over."

He tensed, wondering why you spoke those words so ominously. But he took that as an insult and scowled. "For me? No...it's almost over for you. You're down to your last Pokémon..and I still have all of mine. I'm putting an end to this pathetic "struggle strategy" of yours right now."

".........."

"What a joke this was. Everyone says you were the strongest trainer..but you're just another obstacle in my way."

Hearing that saddened you a little, almost making you regret what you're about to subject this hapless champion to next...but you will end this one way or another.

You couldn't tolerate his arrogance any longer.

Your final Pokémon's appearance completely wiped the smug look on Kieran's face, as his eyes widened upon seeing a Pikachu in the most horrific condition--one that didn't look anything like the others on your team.

Its fur was totally white with a layer of frost coating it; and it was missing a leg, ear, and part of its tail...as though something had torn and chewed at various sections of its body. And its wounds exposed its muscle and bones, yet somehow it was still able to stand on its own.

But the most terrifying thing was its lack of a cutesy smile typical to its species. Instead there was this creepy grin stretching from ear-to-nonexistent-ear. And it just stared at him with those pitch black eyes, giggling.

His hands shook with genuine fear, before he rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

Yet both of you were still there when he looked, ready for battle.

Suddenly he didn't feel so high and mighty right now. His heart pounded and his throat felt dry, eyes stinging from the cold.

He felt as though he wasn't supposed to be here.

He shouldn't be here.

He didn't want to do this anymore.

He wanted to go home.

It was so cold...

But he needed to finish this.

"I-Incineroar, use-"

"Pain Split."

'Wait...Pikachu can learn that?!' His eyes widened in shock, but at the same time he was relieved you finally did something new-

Only for your Pikachu to screech and attack his Pokémon with that move, biting into its arm and causing the latter to roar in agony. He could only watch, horrified as blood splattered all across the snow.

By the time he managed to recall Incineroar, it had already fainted from the attack.

However your Pikachu did, too, laying among the other bodies of your Pokémon...who he now realized were in fact deceased. He could barely see them since the snow covered most of them.

But the morbid images would never leave his head.

He still didn't understand.

What have you become?

What are you?

"It's over."

Looking up, Kieran screamed upon seeing your uniform now covered in blood, the frostbite having eaten away at most of your flesh. You looked like some zombie, with exposed bones and hollowed eyes much like your Pokémon--gazing at him with that same sadness they held.

Now it finally hit him.

All this time, he wasn't battling some BB League ex-champion. He was battling the victim of that weather malfunction the four were talking about.

The one who never made it down this mountain alive.

You were already dead...and wanted him to suffer the same fate as you.

He blinked, and you were suddenly in front of him, grabbing the front of his jacket with two hands and staring at him. And all he could do was stare back in terror, unable to look away.

"Destiny B-"

"NO!! NO!! STOP!!! GET AWAY FROM ME!!!!!" Screaming as loud as he could, he lost all composure as he tried pushing you off of him, hitting your jaw and dislocating the bone.

You dropped him to the ground, and he sobbed, wrapping his arms over his head as he begged you to leave him be.

"L-Let me go home, please pleasepleaseplease-"

"Kieran?!!!"

With a sharp gasp, he looked up to hear the voice of Lacey, before seeing her, Carmine, and the other Elite Four members rushing towards him. They were all bundled-up, with Crispin's Magmortar and Heat Rotom keeping them warm.

"It's [y/n]!!" He shouted, pointing to where you stood. "Th-They..they're right there!!"

The group stopped, appearing confused as they looked all around, seeing nothing but snow.

"Wh-Why are you all standing around?!"

"Kieran..there's no one here except us." Crispin muttered.

".....huh?" Blinking, he looked back and realized you have disappeared entirely, not leaving behind a single trace of your presence. There weren't any blood or footprints in the snow, nor any frozen bodies of Pokémon lying in it.

It's like he was battling a hallucination all along.

But it felt so real..

"But I....I-I..."

"Only you would be insane enough to risk your life coming up here," Carmine huffed, kneeling down. But as soon as she saw the true terror in her little brother's eyes, her heart sank..wondering what he witnessed. "Kiki..?"

"...i-it was them...[y/n]..." He mumbled shakily, his arm still stuck in a pointing position. Tears streaked down his face, the cold wind making his cheeks sting like hell. "Th-They were right here..and...and they...they tried to-"

"Listen, I get you really wanted to meet them and battle them...but they're not here. They're long gone. Now c'mon. We need to get you off this stupid mountain." Picking him up was no problem for Carmine, given how he was light as a feather. He just clung to her, allowing himself to be carried on her back.

The four were astonished that he actually made the journey up here, with Drayton wondering if he was really that desperate to battle you that he came up here, realized you weren't around, and just...made up a scenario in which he wins anyways.

Instead, the poor kid seemed traumatized by whatever he saw...or believed he saw.

After making it safely down the mountain and getting treated--alongside his Incineroar--Kieran's detailed account of what happened led to another rescue team heading up the summit, just in case they may have missed something.

They had fire types and ground type tirelessly shoveling through the snow, digging in the exact spot where he battled you, but there were no signs of you anywhere.

Even so..he refused to believe it, and still had reoccurring nightmares of that encounter and how it might've ended if the others didn't show up in time.

Soon enough he got back on-track to training his Pokémon and becoming stronger everyday, but other trainers noticed how carefully he treaded throughout the Polar Biome..

And how he avoided going anywhere near the tallest mountain in that zone.

For he believed you were still up there, waiting for him.

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #indigo disk x reader #pokepasta x reader #pokemon kieran #angst/horror #snow on mt silver

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mintjeru · 3 months ago

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first encounter florist alhaitham for @viraseii 🌻 thank you for your donation to @hkvthm-action!!

open for better quality | no reposts | extensive brainrot under the cut (don't say i didn't warn you)

ok so i created an entire backstory for the two of them while i was drawing ;u; enjoy!!

kaveh and alhaitham go to the same university and kaveh, who is a year or so ahead of alhaitham, graduates at the end of this year

even though they have different majors (kaveh studies architecture, alhaitham studies linguistics), the two of them share a humanities elective course this semester

alhaitham sits in the middle or back rows and he usually arrives to lecture early so he can read his books in peace until class starts

he often sits with a notetaker in class but they're just acquaintances; alhaitham mostly keeps to himself

meanwhile, kaveh is a really proactive student so he sits in the front rows. he is often found conversing with the students around him.

as such, alhaitham knows of kaveh (the popular guy that keeps answering the professor's questions) but kaveh doesn't know of alhaitham (he doesn't really have a reason to turn around in his seat)

alhaitham lives in the area and he works part-time at his grandma's flower shop! he looked into flower language in his spare time because he liked the idea of tangible objects holding various symbolic meanings. it was similar to the signified-signifier concepts outlined in the semantics papers he read in his linguistics classes.

one day, kaveh comes strolling into the shop during alhaitham's shift because he needs flowers for a project

alhaitham mentions that they're in the same elective class and the two begin talking about the professor and their homework for that day. time flies as they're both intrigued by each other's ideas on the course concepts. by the time the next customer comes in and alhaitham is called away to help, the two walk away deeming each other an interesting conversation partner.

after that day, they begin to talk in class and spend time chatting in the flower shop

whenever kaveh comes by to buy flowers or a gift, alhaitham gives him a small flower as a bonus

it starts with a yellow tulip ("there is sunshine in your smile," it's the first thing alhaitham notices about him. he later finds that the corners of his lips tend to rise when kaveh is around.)

next is a goldenrod (encouragement, kaveh was struggling with a modeling project but alhaitham knew he was capable enough to make it work)

after that is a yellow calla lily (friendship and shared values, kaveh and alhaitham finished a group project and found out they received the highest grade in the class!)

and then a little sunflower (silent love, kaveh had fallen asleep on the library desk studying for their midterm the other night and while he would never admit it, alhaitham spent a significant amount of time admiring the way the lamplight cast a soft golden glow over his features)

at some point, kaveh asks why alhaitham keeps giving him flowers as that surely cannot be good for business. he also seems to keep picking yellow flowers.

alhaitham simply replies that it's better for the older flowers to go to kaveh, who can appreciate them, rather than for them to sit in the shop wilting. besides, they're the same color as kaveh's hair. not that alhaitham stares at the way his hair catches the sunlight or anything.

after finals are over but before the university's graduation ceremony, kaveh visits the flower shop once more

this time, alhaitham is waiting for him with a single red tulip

"this is a familiar sight. i remember the first one you gave me was yellow. are we moving on to red now?"

alhaitham responds to his question with another question: "did you know that the color of the flower affects its meaning?"

kaveh pauses for a bit. "oh, you mean in flower language? i think i've heard of that before, yeah."

alhaitham glances down at the tulip and then back up to kaveh.

most of the time, he doesn't care what others think of him. he's always been focused on his own interests and learning as much as he can, but it seems that things are different when it comes to kaveh. their relationship is fine as it is now, but why is it that he wants so badly for it to change?

it would be so easy for alhaitham to give him another excuse: the tulip matches the color of kaveh's eyes after all. but kaveh is graduating soon. he'll be moving away and given the distance, there's no telling how easy it'll be for them to keep in touch. if there's any time to bring his feelings to light, it's right now.

"so," kaveh starts. "what does a red tulip mean?"

alhaitham closes his eyes. he inhales, holds his breath for a second, and exhales. he makes his choice. when he opens his eyes again-

"a declaration of love."

kaveh stares at him, and for a second, alhaitham worries that he's made the wrong decision. but then kaveh breaks into a smile.

he reaches into his bag and carefully pulls out a red rose

"before you ask, no, i didn't buy this; it had fallen from one of the rose bushes on campus. i'm loyal to your grandma's shop, ok?" he offers the rose to alhaitham and cracks a bashful grin. "i may not be well-versed in the language of flowers, but i think this flower has a rather obvious meaning, don't you think? looks like you beat me to it."

alhaitham feels the blood rush to his ears as the two exchange flowers.

then, kaveh lifts his free hand and opens his palm. alhaitham places his hand in kaveh's, and their fingers intertwine. kaveh looks down at their hands and brushes his thumb across the top of alhaitham's. he smiles to himself.

"oh no, please don't tell me all the flowers you gave me were picked based on their meanings," kaveh sighs. "i can't believe i never thought to look them up."

alhaitham squeezes kaveh's hand and relishes in the warmth of kaveh's palm against his. "don't worry, i'll tell you starting now."

#kaveh #alhaitham #kavetham #hkvthmgotcha #genshin impact #fanart #myart #doodle #this is modern au so if you hadn't noticed-- alhaitham has hearing aids instead of his headset!#one thing about me is i will make my art so self-indulgent #also op you said either art or fic was fine and uhhh [gestures vaguely at the read more] i guess you got both from me!#hope they aren't ooc >< i just had a stream of consciousness hehe

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lyinginbedmon · 5 months ago

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Howdy folks!

I'm not really comfortable making posts like these, because I'm extremely accustomed to just getting by Somehow without getting outside assistance. Historically I've just made do with whatever I had and over the years I've gotten pretty good at making "very little" seem like "just enough" at least, sometimes even "quite a bit".

But I recognise that's a long-term trauma response and, what's more, that I can't overcome this particular obstacle without external support.

So here's the situation: I have been on a waiting list for healthcare since 2019 and the most I've ever heard back to be sure I'm even still on that list is the occasional newsletter. There's a chance I'll hear back properly in November, but also every likelihood I still have years to wait.

Moreover, there's every possibility that the UK general election on July 7th will see a considerable crackdown on the availability of healthcare support for people like me. The current government just last week issued an emergency ban until September on medication for children of my demographic in the span of just 62 minutes.

The medication I've been taking since June 2020 has to be sourced from the grey market, and that makes it expensive, especially so if I don't order it in bulk. Which I frankly cannot afford to do due to a bunch of different problems over the last year. Whatever savings I had to the effect of paying for medication (or anything else for that matter) had to be dumped to prevent my bank from taking action against me just for not having enough money at once. I am not physically capable of working any more than I already am, and therefore have no available options to increase my income to resolve this myself.

So here's the rub: It's Pride Month, and my birthday is in 4 days.

If you have any spare change, please consider putting it towards the GoFundMe linked above. If you don't, please reblog this post so it hopefully reaches someone who can.

My supply will last less than 2 more months before I start to deplete parts of it, 3 months at the most overall. It's a dark time here for the trans community, and particularly for someone as far below the poverty line as me, so for my birthday all I ask is for a bit of assistance making it a teensy bit brighter.

#gofundme #transgender #uk politics #lyinginbedmon #long post

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whumpfish · 4 months ago

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Reference: Psychogenic Fever

You've seen it in anime loads of times: the protagonist overexerts themselves or experiences a highly stressful event, and they dramatically collapse. The next thing you know, they're in bed with a cloth over their forehead and an ally informs the rest of us that they have a fever.

Well, it turns out that can actually happen.

If your immune system is already shot, and you experience acute levels of stress, your body will respond to those stress hormones the way it would normally respond to a virus. Your core heats up, and you develop a full-blown fever.

According to what information I was able to dig up, some patients can develop core temperatures of 41°C/105°F. I didn't apparently record mine when this was going on, but given the temperature dysregulation caused by the seroquel I take that prevents me from cooling off if I get hot and the reverse, and how hot literally anything I touched got, I was probably in that higher range.

The Progression:

I went to bed at around 1:45 a.m. I'd already been through so much stress with my grandfather's funeral, how my dad elected to process grief, and scrambling to get the SSI-D function report that had arrived in our mailbox when I was out of town returned on time, I had already crashed out earlier that day from the energy expenditure. Now, I have ME/CFS, and crashing out after exertion/stress is normal, so nothing stood out as a warning sign. If there was one, I dismissed it as my usual fatigue. I went to sleep.

I woke up about 2.5 hours later, experiencing sleep paralysis--presumably in lieu of a fever dream. When I woke up the rest of the way, I was sweating profusely and feeling about like I'd been mowing the lawn in 105° heat. I've done that, and collapsed from heat exhaustion from it, before. I was hotter at that moment than I had been back then.

I put a wrist to my forehead, and the sensation was like holding a hairdryer on high to my forehead at point-blank range. My pillow was just as hot, and no amount of flipping fixed that. (I should point out here that I normally run cold--ridiculously cold, sleep with the quilt up in the middle of a Texas summer cold--and this never happens unless I am very sick.)

I smelled like fever. Some people don't think you can smell fevers, but I was a sickly child and spent so much of my life in pediatricians' waiting rooms full of feverish children that after a while I noticed a particular smell unique to those environments. Since then, I've been able to accurately identify it elsewhere by that smell.

I was completely confused. I'd had to go into the grocery store without a mask earlier that day because I ran out, but even I don't present that quickly. It couldn't be from that. Some old geek part of me remembered Anime Fever, and on a hunch, I googled "can you give yourself a fever from stress?" And yes. Yes, you can.

I sat up, and when I touched the mattress where I had been sleeping with one hand, it felt like trying to pick a dish up out of the dishwasher immediately after it's through running. It was that hot.

The recommended treatment was anti-inflammatories and any relevant psych meds that can reduce anxiety, so I took 800mg of ibuprofen and an extra, small dose of seroquel. Then I took my clothes off and downed a few bottles of water, my usual trick for cooling down once I've gotten too hot, and sat on the foot of my bed to give my mattress time to cool down before getting back in bed to try to sleep.

The fever broke at around 6:15 a.m., and I was finally able to rotate back to the other side of my mattress and pillow, and go back to sleep. I slept until 1:20 p.m.

The Takeaway: This is a real phenomenon! Use it on your whumpees with poor immune systems, either naturally or broken down from their ordeal. It's no longer just an anime trope.

#whump reference #whump #whump prompt #whump community #whump scenario #whumpee #whump tropes #whump prompts #whumpblr #writing #writing reference #my life is a whump prompt #edit: fixed brain fog word omissions #edit: felt like the sleep paralysis was worth mentioning

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eddiexmunsonlover · 4 months ago

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One Step Away From You (Chapter 11)

BSF!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!Fem!Reader

Follow my new blog for future chapters & fics @cherryxhaze

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Chapter Summary: Overwhelmed by your feelings for Eddie, you don't learn your lesson and begin to pull away from him again. But with the help of Steve and Robin, Eddie's not letting you get away so easily this time. WC: 7.6k Warnings: MDNI. Honestly just an emotionally heavy chapter. Anxiety, triggers to previous 'relationship'. Angst, fluff, hurt, and comfort. Well, here it is everybody. The chapter we've all been waiting for! I honestly teared up a bit writing this. I really hope you all enjoy it and feel it was worth the wait, angst, and tension I put you through. Series taglist: @eddie-is-a-god @siriusmaraudeers @amandahobblepot @littlexdeaths

Thursday, February 13th, 1986

“Soooo, how long exactly are you planning on keeping this up?”

Robin’s voice pulls you from your concentration, looking up from your History notes to be met with her expectant gaze. Your eyes flicker around your surroundings in confusion.

“What? …Studying?”

“No, dingus! This thing with Eddie!”

You sigh, shoulders slumping in defeat as she continues rambling.

“This whole slowly pulling away from Eddie because you think it’s going to magically make your feelings for him disappear. Because that went SO WELL the last time-”

“Robin” you hiss as your eyes dart around the two of you, trying to determine if any of the other students taking shelter in the library instead of the lunchroom can overhear.

“What? It’s true! You’re only hurting yourself and him.”

“It’s only temporary, Rob.” you reassure, making a feeble attempt to both subdue her and bring your focus back to your notes.

“Temporary… right. Well, what if the damage done in the process isn’t?”

Your hands rub over your face in frustration, huffing before you meet her stare.

“Look, it’s not the same as last time. It’s not like I’ve completely shut him out. I’ve just taken a step back, that’s all. Just until I feel like I can handle being around him so much for the rest of the school year.”

Instead of being met with her continued ramblings, she just stares at you with raised brows. An expression that reads ‘I see right through your bullshit’. Before she can say so, the screeching ring of the bell signaling the end of the lunch period provides the perfect exit to the conversation you’ve been avoiding from both her and Steve.

“This conversation isn’t over!” she insists with a hushed whisper as you enter the school halls.

“Bye, Robin!” you exclaim before parting from her side, heading down opposite ends of the hall to your next class.

Over the last 3 weeks since the events of the concert and Eddie’s birthday, you’d begun to pull away from him. Slowly, bit by bit. Electing to spend more lunch periods with Robin in the library. Spending more evenings with Steve and Robin or your mom. Even visiting your dad a few times. Picking up more work shifts. Some you needed to go to right after school, less carpooling. Nothing that couldn’t be written off with excuses.

You needed to save money ahead of college in the fall. You’d noticed you were spending less time with your mom and other friends and wanted to change that.

You still carpooled some days, still sat at the Hellfire table for lunch, still attended Hellfire meetings and your movie nights after, but your presence around Eddie had been dwindling.

Enough to be noticeable, but still around enough to not be alarming, you hope.

You don’t know what else to do.

After the night of Eddie's birthday, you felt so overwhelmed with the feelings you’ve been suppressing for so long. Feelings and desires for him. Overwhelmed by his presence. His meaningless pet names and soft touches.

You’re tired of it, and so are your two other closest friends. Steve manages to bring Eddie up every time you hang out, insisting you just tell him how you feel.

He doesn’t understand.

You can handle rejection, you’ve dealt with it plenty of times throughout your life. What you can’t handle is rejection from Eddie. The thought alone devastates you, keeping you from confessing the feelings for him you hold so close to your heart, on top of fear it would unravel your friendship.

You turn the knob entering the combination to your locker, switching out your books for your afternoon classes. A sliver of pink flashes through your vision, a card falling to the ground, slipped through the slits at the top. You stare at the pink paper next to your feet for a few seconds, uncertainty filling your mind.

A Valentine's gram.

They’d been advertising it all week ahead of Valentine’s Day tomorrow. Tables set up in the front atrium and cafeteria to send candy grams and letters to other students. You take a sharp inhale through your nostrils before reaching down to grab it, twirling it in your hands before getting the courage to open the note.

You’re the most beautiful girl these cynical eyes have ever seen.

Your Secret Admirer

Reading the words over and over again you gulp, forcing down the quickly rising lump in your throat as painful memories are triggered. Heat rises in your cheeks, eyes quickly darting around you. Scanning the halls for anyone watching, snickering with their friends at the prank.

But no one’s watching you, everyone going about their business. Casually chatting with friends or hurrying down the halls to get to their next class on time.

You shove the pink note in your bag, grabbing the last of your books before slamming the locker door shut. Trudging down the hall to your next class. Avoiding the eyes of your classmates, even Eddie, as you slump into your seat.

Memories of this time last year creeping into your mind.

Justin.

He’d left a note in your locker for Valentine’s Day too.

“You’re so beautiful.

Meet me by the bleachers at 3”

The day after Valentine’s when you let him be your first and only, just for it to all be a joke. A heartless prank.

The note in your locker brings back that pain, embarrassment, and anger. The similarities, the anniversary. It poisons your mood for the day, unable to bring yourself to focus at all in your last classes. Zoning out as you stare at the board, memories of Justin, your friendship and feelings for Eddie swarming your mind.

You’re so consumed by it you don’t hear his footsteps approaching from behind as you leave the classroom.

“Hey, you! What’s up?”

“Oh. Hey, Eds. Not much.”

“You alright? You look a little-”

“I’m fine. Look I um, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” His steps stop with yours as you exit the front doors of the school, quickly lighting a cigarette and taking a drag before you continue. “I’m not going to be able to make it to Hellfire tomorrow.”

“W-What do you mean, is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine. My aunt asked me to cover, the guy that took over my Friday night shifts is sick. I’m sorry.” You shrug defeatedly.

Another lie added to the list of excuses you’ve fed him over the last few weeks to avoid being around him too much. You asked your Aunt for the shift, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Sighing, his hands go to his hips as he looks around the parking lot.

“Well, you’re going to have to find a sub.”

“I’ll find a sub, Eddie.” You say exasperatedly, rolling your eyes. Before he can comment on your clearly sour mood, you try to dismiss it with a shake of your head. “Look, I gotta go to work. I’ll catch you later, alright?”

You don’t wait for a response as you begin the walk from the school to your truck, hearing his dumbfounded “Alright” from behind you.

Not bothering to let your eyes seek him out as you pull out of the school parking lot.

You hate this.

Hate lying to him. Hate trying to spend just enough time with him to subdue worries or complaints. Hate that you’re doing what you’ve always done; holding everything in, avoiding conflict and procrastinating the inevitable. It’s what you’ve always done because it’s the only way you’ve been taught how to handle your problems. Left to your own devices to figure it out.

You hate that you don’t know how to handle this any other way.

Most of all, you hate that you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend.

Friday, February 14th, 1986

There’s something wrong with you and Eddie knows it. Despite your efforts to pull away from him as slowly and subtly as you can, he’s noticed your growing absence over the weeks. Always giving an excuse that seems to make sense, but he can’t get rid of the gut feeling that something else is going on. He’s asked, but you always tell him everything’s fine.

You’re just tired, busy, working, trying to spend more time with family.

The excuses would satisfy anyone else, taking them at face value, but he’s known you long enough to know when you’re holding something in, something that’s weighing heavily on your mind. He can’t deny that your fading presence hasn’t triggered a fear, a fear going back 3 years when you pulled away from him completely. You were thousands of miles away then, but he’s watching you do the same thing now right in front of him, only slower. That realization and the fear that it will reach the inevitable point where you cut him off completely again has had him in an internal panic for the past weeks.

Spending nights alone in his room racking his brain for anything he could’ve done to cause this. The excuses and less time spent together started 3 weeks ago, soon after his birthday and the concert the week before that. He relives those nights.

The concert. He admits he let himself get carried away in a few moments. Letting the energy and environment take over, touching you more than he usually would. Hoping you’d see it as nothing more than him being a protective friend, and at the same time hoping you’d see it for what it really is, his feeble attempt at sending you signs of his feelings he’s too afraid to admit. Too afraid those feelings would scare you away, cutting him off from your life again.

Maybe that’s exactly what’s happening now. You saw his actions for what they are. He was too forward, too creepy. It overwhelmed you. He feels so damn stupid, jeopardizing your friendship like that by putting his selfish desires first.

And who knows what he did the night of his birthday, drinking too many Rum and Coke’s to remember. He cringes at the thought, regret filling his mind and body.

Maybe he took it a step even farther in the wrong direction with that Valentine’s note left in your locker. He’d convinced Gareth to write it for him, you’d recognize Eddie’s handwriting but not his. He knew you’d see it before your afternoon classes, hoping at the least it’d just put a smile on your face. But there was no smile in sight when you walked into English class, a frown and a look of sorrow etched into your features.

He knew he’d fucked up. When you told him you’d be missing Hellfire, despite your seemingly reasonable excuse, he can’t help but think the reason is really him.

Your usual seat at Hellfire is taken by Max. He wonders what you did to convince the girl to take your spot as she looks among the members in skepticism. Your absence at Hellfire leaves a hollow feeling in his heart. You’d never missed a campaign since you joined, the thought that this wouldn’t be the last scares him. Despite worrying that he’s done too much and has pushed you away, he feels like he has to do something. Fear driving him to fight in some way, but he isn’t sure what to do.

That uncertainty drives him to the parking lot of Family Video after Hellfire to seek out the help of your other best friends. Watching various customers leave under the neon sign, couples renting romance movies for the holiday. His rings anxiously tap against the steering wheel as he gathers his courage, waiting for the right moment. The less people in the video store, the better. A Friday night on Valentine’s Day probably wasn’t the best choice, but he can’t stand being stuck in his own head any longer.

Van keys in hand, he slams the driver’s door shut before striding toward the glass doors.

“Welcome to Family Vid-” Steve begins his usual work greeting, cut off guard looking up from the stack of tapes to see Eddie approaching the counter. “Ah, Munson. Here to rent another gory slasher?”

Robin’s ears quirk up at the mention of Eddie’s name, disregarding the customer in front of her asking about the latest Tom Cruise flick as she peeks over the video stands toward the counter.

“Uh, no. I’m actually here to talk.” Eddie mutters as he looks around the store, appearing frazzled. Skin clammy and hair more wild than usual. His eyes meet Robin’s, which widens before turning back to her customer, failing to appear nonchalant.

“Talk?” Steve crosses his arms, acting surprised. He already knows, though, what exactly Eddie wants to talk about. Given the increasing distance you’ve put between you two, Steve knew it would come to a head eventually. He didn’t exactly expect Eddie to seek him out for it, however.

“Yeah, about Y/N. I don’t know, something’s wrong. She’s not around as much anymore and I know there’s something going on.”

“Oookay. Have you tried talking to her about it?”

“Do you think I’d be here right now if I hadn’t?” His nostrils flare and lips tighten as frustration fills him. He takes a breath to calm himself. “Everytime I ask her, she says everything’s fine. She has to work more shifts, she’s spending more time with you two. But I know there’s more to it.”

Robin joins the duo, sliding up to the counter to eavesdrop more closely, inserting herself in the conversation.

“Alright… I’m not exactly sure where we fit into this, Munson.”

Eddie flashes him an incredulous look. He’s going to have to pry it out of him.

“She won’t tell me what’s going on, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t told you two what’s going on.” He points a finger at them accusingly, his impatience beginning to rise.

“Ha. Nope, no no no no no no” Steve scoffs, raising his hands in an attempt to remove himself from the situation. With her customer checked out and heading out the doors, Robin steps beside Steve to face Eddie.

“Look, Eddie. As frustrating as this situation may be, believe me, I know. What kind of friends would we be if we blabbed her business behind her back, things she’s told us in confidence?”

He knows she’s right, but it only lands him in the same spot he’s been, stuck. Leaning his elbows on the counter, his head falls in his hands as his mind swells in frustration and overwhelm. He rubs his eyes, taking a shaky inhale.

“I don’t know what else to do. I’m stuck… I’m scared she’s just gonna pull away completely again. I just can’t take that.”

The sound of his voice, the subtle shakiness and cracking in it. The sight of him with his head in his hands, helpless. It hits Steve right in his chest. His hand shoots to his forehead, squeezing his eyebrows together in disgruntlement before he sighs.

“Look, Robin’s right. But” he shares a look with her. “We’re willing to help.”

Eddie’s eyes peek over his hands to observe them, seeing their genuine expression he removes them from his face completely.

“Well, you got any bright ideas?”

Steve shares another unspoken look with Robin and it’s nearly enough to send Eddie over the edge.

“Let me ask you something, Munson.” Steve begins, taking a step closer to the counter between them, arms returning to cross over his chest. He reads Eddie for a moment before continuing.

“You love her, don’t you?” He asks plainly. It catches Eddie off-guard, forcibly blinking his eyes repeatedly before shaking his head. Scoffing out a laugh.

“I- Well of course I do, she’s my best friend.”

He gets nothing but silence from the duo. Robin’s head tilts ever so slightly, Steve’s eyes squinting as they examine him.

It’s more than that. He knows it, and they know it. But Eddie grows defensive under their prying gaze and question. That small spark of jealousy reigniting as he looks at Steve.

“Ha. Oh, I see. You’re just trying to see if you’re going to have some competition getting in your way, huh?” he accuses, posture straightening and puffing his chest out. But Steve only returns the accusation with a look of confusion, furrowing his brows.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, Munson. Don’t get me wrong Y/N’s a great girl, but we’re nothing more than friends.”

“Yeah. Platonic… with a capital P!” Robin adds.

The air filling Eddie’s chest deflates with a huff, almost a sigh of relief. His calloused hand rubs over his face.

“Well, based on that reaction I think I have the real answer to my question.” Steve remarks, sharing another look with Robin.

Eddie looks around the empty video store before slowly nodding his head.

“Yeah. I love her. Really love her.” he admits, a small weight off his chest with the confession.

Steve releases a sigh of his own, slumping his back against the counter as he tries to think.

“So? What do we do?” Robin presses him, hands flared out by her hips.

“Just-” A hand flies up to stop her. “Let me think, alright?”

Silence falls among the trio as Steve is lost in thought. Weighing their options as he feels the eyes of Robin and Eddie on him. Waiting for him to come up with a solution. A few moments pass before he slowly begins nodding his head, a small smirk appearing on his lips before his eyes look up to meet theirs.

“Yeah, alright. I’ve got an idea. But let me make one thing clear…shit, who am I kidding. If this plan fails it’s going to bite us all in the ass. So let’s make sure it doesn’t, alright?”

It’s another one of those nights. Despite your body being exhausted from a busy Friday shift at work, your mind is nowhere near winding down. Freshly showered and in a clean set of pajamas, you survey your room for something to do. The second your eyes land on your purple bass guitar, it’s decided. Losing yourself in music is one of your go-to’s for nights like these, providing plenty of distraction from your thoughts.

Sliding the guitar strap over your head, you switch out the tapes in the stereo and press play. As Hang on to Your Love by Sade begins, your fingers flawlessly follow the bassline you’ve played countless times in the nearly 2 years since the Diamond Life album’s release. Your eyes close letting the music flow through you, singing along, head and body moving with the beat under the purple glow of your string lights.

In Heaven's name, why are you walking away?

Hang on to your love

In Heaven's name, why do you play these games?

Hang on to your love

Take time if you're down on luck

It's so easy to walk out on love

Take your time if the going gets tough

It's so precious

So if you want it to get stronger

You'd better not let go

You gotta hold on longer

If you want your love to grow

Gotta stick together

Hand in glove

Hold tight, don't fight

Hang on to your love

You sing and play along as your feet move you around the room, hips swaying to the beat. You let your mind focus on the rhythm, fingers following the repetitive baseline. Making an effort to not focus too much on the lyrics, less the irony slap you in the face. You know they’re right, deep down. Having the courage to follow the truth of it is another story.

He sits in the driver’s seat after the engine goes quiet, collecting his thoughts. Going over the plan he made with Steve, all the things he wants to say to you. He steps out of the van, closing the door behind him before heading toward the trailer. Unlocking the front door, he spares a glance toward your trailer, your window. Purple light shining through the sheer curtains.

You.

The faint outline of your figure clad with your guitar. Body swaying to the bassline you pluck with your fingers. He sighs, pulling his eyes from the sight and closing the trailer door behind him.

Secluding to his bedroom for the night with hope that Steve’s plan works.

Saturday, February 15th, 1986

A smirk plays on your lips, watching as Steve’s BMW pulls into your driveway. Steve and Robin waving at you from the front seat.

“Come on, it’ll be like old times last summer. Driving to work together, and you know, we can go for a drive around town after, listen to music, get some ice cream then have a movie night!” Steve propositioned you over the phone an hour ago. You figured he wants to do something to lighten your mood, take you back to the late nights your little trio would have last summer after your Scoops Ahoy shifts.

Which has led to you sitting in Steve’s backseat as he drives down Hawkins main road to drop you off at the restaurant before the two head to their own shifts. Giggling to yourself as you listen to their usual bickering from the front seat.

“Alright, give the store a call when you’re done and we’ll pick you up” he smiles as you get out of the car, quickly returning the gesture to him.

“Aye-Aye, Captain. See you guys later!” They wave bye before watching you part, releasing a deep sigh when you disappear into the restaurant and he shifts the car in reverse.

“I really hope this doesn’t blow up in our faces” Robin mutters from the passenger seat, fingers massaging her forehead before looking at Steve.

“Tell me about it… she’s gonna kick my ass.” He spares one last look at the restaurant before driving back onto the main road toward Family Video.

You can’t deny you feel excited for your after work plans, the prospect of being able to live in the moment with your friends and not in your head with stress. Business keeps at a steady pace throughout the day, offering you plenty of distraction from those thoughts and that nagging feeling in the bottom of your stomach you can’t quite place your finger on.

When closing time comes around, the dinner rush that’d hit has left you feeling exhausted. With aching feet and a sore back, you scuffle over to the restaurant telephone. Dialing the number to Family Video, you glance at the clock. 10 minutes past their closing time.

“Uh, Family Video?” Robin’s voice greets you with hesitation, usually avoiding answering any calls that come in after closing time. Expecting your call, she hopes she didn’t just accidentally answer a customer.

“Hey, it’s me. I’m finished here if y’all are ready?”

“Oh! Yeah, right! Weeee are about to leave right now. Be there in a few!” Your brows furrow at the fluctuations in her voice.

“Uh alright, see you soon”

“Kay, bye!” Her cheeks puff out as she slams the phone down on the receiver.

“Nice. Real smooth, Robin.” Steve remarks with a shake of his head.

“Well you should’ve answered then, dingus!”

You put the phone back on the receiver before turning to collect your belongings from the back room, saying your goodbyes to your coworkers and clocking out. A few minutes later you’re wandering out the restaurant doors into the cold February air. A quick look around the parking lot tells you they’re not here yet. You decide to take a seat for the first time since the start of your shift, figuring you have enough time for a quick cigarette before the BMW pulls up any minute now.

5 minutes later, the cherry on your cigarette has met the filter and still no sign of Steve and Robin. Your foot bounces anxiously against the loose gravel beneath your feet. The video store is only 3 minutes down the road. Maybe they got caught up in closing tasks? But Robin said they were leaving right then on the phone… 8 minutes ago.

The roar of an engine on the quiet road pushes through your thoughts, turning your head when you hear tires crunching on loose gravel.

But it’s not Steve’s BMW you see. It’s the oh-so familiar van.

Eddie.

Your stomach drops at the sight as he pulls up right in front of you, leaning over to lower the passenger window.

“Get in, I’ll give you a ride home.”

“I um,” your palms rub against your thighs as you rise from your seat, looking down the streets before meeting his gaze. “I already have one. I’m waiting for Steve and Rob, we have plans tonight.”

He doesn’t respond, only stares at you with an almost sympathetic look. As you read his expression, his lack of a response, the realization hits you under his gaze. Inhaling sharply as you look down the streets, lips tightening into a firm line.

“Goddamn it, Harrington.” you mutter under your breath.

He set you up.

After your call to Family Video, Steve hastily called Eddie, setting their plan to ‘corner’ you into motion.

You take one last look at the empty streets, knowing that BMW isn’t coming. With a huff, you walk toward the passenger door of the van, climbing in. Eddie doesn’t waste any time pulling out of the parking lot and back onto Main Street, heading in the direction of the trailer park.

An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you, only the low volume of a Black Sabbath tape flowing through the van.

Your anxiety grows when Eddie continues driving past the turn leading to the trailer park. You quickly look at him. “I thought you were taking me home?”

“I will. Just going somewhere else first.” he returns simply, eyes never wavering from the road to meet yours.

You hastily light another cigarette in an attempt to calm your nerves and the anxiety sitting in your gut. Mind racing as you try to determine your destination. When the van turns onto a dirt road you’ve been on a few times before, you know exactly where he’s taking you.

Soon enough you see the moonlight glimmering off the water as the coverage of the trees lining the road clears up to the shore of Lover’s Lake. At the end of the road, he turns the van and backs it up so the backdoors will open to the shoreline. The sound of the soft lapping of waves is the only thing you hear when he kills the engine.

Eddie hesitates his next move, sitting idly in the driver's seat. Looking down as he fidgets with the rings on his fingers before opening his door, climbing out of the van and shutting it behind him. Leaving you sitting there dumbfounded in the passenger seat.

This is it. They haven’t given you a choice in the matter. Both Eddie and your friends have had enough of your avoidance. Side-stepping Eddie for weeks and your feelings for even longer.

You’re sure this is his confrontation, not letting you leave until you’ve satisfied his questions.

Maybe he already knows your answers, the real answers. Who knows what Steve and Robin told him. You don’t believe they’d spill the beans so easily, but maybe they’ve grown so tired of witnessing this dance with Eddie that they’ve told him the truth themselves. Your heart doesn’t believe they would, but your anxiety isn’t consoled by that belief in this moment.

You hear the creak of the backdoors of the van opening from behind you, followed by the subtle shift in movement with Eddie’s body. A quick peek confirms it, his back towards you as he sits on the edge of the van, watching the water with a lit cigarette.

With a shaky breath you open your door and climb out, taking slow steps walking the length of the van till you’re at the back. Arms crossed against your chest, the toe of your shoe lazily digs into the dirt.

“What are we doing here, Eds?”

He takes a long drag of the cigarette, head hanging as he tries to find the right words, the right way to approach this.

“I… figured it was a nice place to talk.” His eyes finally look up to meet yours for the first time since he picked you up.

“To talk?”

He sighs, rubbing his free hand along the black denim covering his thigh.

“Y/N… I know there’s something going on that you’re not telling me. You’ve been pulling away, you’re not around as much and-and you give all these good excuses but I know there’s another reason for it. I can feel it.” His brown eyes are pleading as they look into yours before you divert your gaze away toward the lake, the speed of your heartbeat rising.

“I just… I can’t do this” you shake your head as you face the ground, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to chew anxiously.

“All these years you’ve been able to tell me almost everything. What’s so different now, huh? With whatever it is that’s going on?” he pushes, the pleading in his eyes now seeping into his voice. “Did I do something?”

“God. No, Eddie. You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why can’t you just tell me?”

“Because… Because it’ll change the way you look at me, Eddie. Our friendship, everything. It won’t be the same.” you insist, fighting the panicked feeling from filling your stomach and rising up your throat. Your words and the distressed look creeping onto your face brings him to his feet, moving to approach you.

“Hey. Look at me.” His hands grab onto your arms, holding you in place to face him.

“Nothing could ever change that. Change our friendship and how much you mean to me. Hell, even after not speaking to me for 3 years, you’re still my best friend. Losing you is the last thing I want, and these last few weeks I’ve been terrified that’s exactly what’s happening. I can’t lose you again, Y/N. So please, just tell me what’s going on.” His voice is soft and sincere, only adding to the overwhelming emotions coursing through your body.

Panic. Fear. Worry. Guilt. Shame.

Scared to finally reveal the feelings you’ve held and hidden for so long. Guilt at seeing and hearing through his voice the hurt you’re causing him. It’s enough to push you in the direction you know you need to take. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, to him. Neither of you deserve it, but certainly not the boy you’ve loved for so long who stands before you, pleading for you to let him in and stop casting him out.

“Okay. Okay. Fine… I’ll tell you just- just give me a minute, okay?” You look into his eyes, offering a plea of your own. He nods softly, removing his hands from your arms and taking a step back, returning to his previous spot on the back edge of the van. Elbows on his knees, eyes following your figure as you begin to pace back and forth in front of him.

Your movements falter bringing yourself to one spot in front of him, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. You tilt your head back, facing the sky as you close your eyes. Taking a deep breath, attempting to hold back the tears threatening to slip. Your head falls back down to face him, ready as you’ll ever be.

“When I told you why I stopped talking to you for those years I was away… I didn’t exactly lie, but I didn’t tell you the whole truth either. It’s the same reason why I’ve been distant these last few weeks.” You begin, arms wrapped around yourself for comfort as he sits there, listening intently.

“And the reason is that…I love you.” You confess with a shaky breath, daring your eyes to meet his. His brow furrows as he looks at you, confusion etched across his features.

“I-I don’t understand. I love you too… you’re my best-”

“No, Eddie…” you cut him off with a sigh, frustrated with yourself most of all. That you’ve held this in for so long, regardless of how he’s going to take it.

“I don’t just love you… I’m in love with you. I-I always have been.”

There it is.

The culmination of years of feelings, memories, touches that linger for seconds longer than they should, pain, and lust. Finally out in the open.

A weight is off your shoulders but the confession doesn’t subside the anxiety swirling in your body, pushing you further.

Your feet move you to pace again, refusing to look at Eddie. Avoiding an expression that’ll break your heart before the words even come out of his mouth.

“I just, I couldn’t handle the pain and the feelings for you when I moved away, that was the real underlying reason why I stopped calling. I thought out of sight out of mind, you know? That my feelings would go away but they never did. A-and moving back just made those feelings for you more intense and then with the concert and your birthday, it was just so overwhelming” you ramble, barely taking a breath as the manifestation of your anxiety flows from your lips. The more you talk, the more you delay the inevitable response you expect from him.

“I know it’s foolish but I just did the same thing again. Thinking if I just put some distance between us it would go away. A-and I never said anything because I know you could never feel the same way about m-”

You’re so focused on overexplaining yourself, staring at the moving ground below your feet that you don’t notice when he stands from his spot.

He moves in front of you, hands returning to your arms to stop your pacing before they move up to softly cup your red, chubby cheeks. You barely have the time to process what’s happening before his lips come crashing down onto yours. It feels like time stands still, your mind in shock.

A gasp escapes your mouth before you press your lips just as hard against his. The feeling of his soft lips releasing all the tension held tight in your body, relaxing your chest and shoulders as one of your hands slides up to tangle itself in his messy curls. A motion you’ve fantasized about doing for so long.

His actions speak louder than words ever could. Conveying years of suppressed feelings, wants and desires for you. Years of heartache from all the things he’s wanted to do with you, lost time from tiptoeing around your feelings for each other for so long. It’s all come to this very moment. He puts every ounce of the years of love, desire, and lust he’s held for you into the kiss.

Your eyes squeeze shut hard, but it doesn’t stop the tears from sliding down your cheeks. Hitting his thumb before he gently wipes it away. The gesture only causes more streaks to stain your cheeks.

You feel like you’re dreaming. This can’t be real, but his touch grounds you. Losing yourself in his lips, not stuck in your thoughts for the first time in weeks.

Just him.

Consuming every fiber of your being.

His lips part from yours, but his touch lingers. His forehead and nose press against yours. Thumb wiping away the stray tears on your cheeks as you look into his dark irises. Falling silent as you catch your breaths.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that, sweetheart.” He mutters softly, moving a hand from your cheek to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Catching sight of the gloss covering his eyes, tears filling his waterline and threatening to spill.

In those few seconds, the guilt comes flooding back in.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie. I didn’t know how to handle it or what to do. I didn’t think you could ever see me as more than just your friend.”

“I’d call you crazy for not being able to see it this whole time, but I guess that makes me crazy too”

“Safe to say we’re both crazy… and stupid”

“Very stupid”

You smile at each other like idiots, holding one another in a tight embrace. Enjoying the touch you’ve both craved from each other for so long.

“Don’t feel too bad about it. I didn’t know how to handle it, either. I never thought you could love me that way.”

You scoff at the admission, looking over all the features you’ve loved for so long, illuminated in the glow of the moonlight.

“I’ve always seen you for you, Eddie. When no one else has… and I love every part of you.”

He takes a shaky breath, closing his eyes with a small smile. A single tear falling down his cheek.

You’re right. You’re the only person outside of Wayne who’s seen him for who he truly is- good and bad, strengths and weaknesses. That someone could see him at his lowest lows, see his faults and traumas, see the real him through his reputation and still love him, and not just despite all those things. Truly love him. He never thought that was possible.

And here you are, telling him you’ve been in love with him this whole time.

Confidence overtakes you, letting yourself lean in to kiss the single tear, stopping it from falling further down and meeting his jawline.

His eyes slowly open, thumb caressing your cheekbone as he looks at you with such endearment.

Everything in this moment makes you feel lightheaded.

The weight off your shoulders at finally confessing your feelings, let alone Eddie reciprocating them. The lingering sensation on your lips of his. His breath fanning against your face. The way his eyes are full with so much love and adoration.

Now that you know what it feels like, you only want more. You press your lips to his again, moving against each other seamlessly, almost they were made for his. The kiss is gentler than the first, taking your time with each other but holding just as much passion. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you tight against his firm, warm chest.

When your lips part again, your hands slide behind his head. Nuzzling your face into his neck, standing there in a tight embrace with nothing but the soft sounds of the lake, your heartbeats and breaths surrounding you. Despite feeling like time has stood still in your heart-to-heart with Eddie, it flies by later into the night. The outing to the lake has served its purpose, lost in each other’s touch until the late February air sends shivers down your spines.

“It’s getting cold out here, hun. Let’s head home, yeah?”

You nod against his chest, regretfully pulling apart from him before his hand snakes down to intertwine his fingers with yours. Guiding you to the passenger door of the van that he quickly opens for you, helping you in.

Comforting heat quickly fills the van as Eddie pulls off the dirt road. The roar of the engine sends a relaxing vibration through the seats. The familiar melody of Black Sabbath playing through the speakers. Eddie’s warm hand reaching to hold yours as street lights pass overhead. The long day behind you of school, work, and an emotional night with Eddie.

They all come together, taking their toll and lulling you into a state of relaxation as exhaustion kicks in. Your eyelids grow heavy and you don’t have the energy to fight it.

He glances at you from the driver’s seat. Hearing your heavy breaths and the movement of your chest with them. Head slumped against the headrest.

He doesn’t think his heart has ever felt so full, warm and swelling at the sight.

As he brings his eyes back to the road, he makes a mental note that he’s going to have to thank Steve and Robin big time.

“Sweetheart”

Your heavy eyelids flutter open at the sound, warmth rubbing against your thigh. Through blurry vision you recognize you’re still in the van, only now parked in Wayne’s driveway. To your side, Eddie stands in the open frame of the passenger door.

“Hey, we’re home.” his voice is so soft, yet husky.

You attempt to rub the sleep from your eyes before you greet him with a tired smile, sliding your hand in his as he helps you out of the van.

“I um, I hope I’m not being too forward asking this but- do you wanna stay with me tonight?” he asks hesitantly, puppy dog eyes staring into yours.

“I’d love that. But, I’ve been sweating all night and I smell like grease…”

He laughs, glancing down at your hands held in his before looking back up to you.

“I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“Well good, cause I don’t think I could stand long enough for a shower if I wanted to.”

“Better get you inside before you collapse on me, then.” he smirks, wrapping an arm around you. Hand resting on your waist as you trudge up the steps into Uncle Wayne’s trailer.

You thank yourself for keeping an emergency change of clothes in Eddie’s closet, keeping your desire to be comfortable in mind for movie nights after Hellfire meetings. You slip into the bathroom, changing into the spare pair of sweatpants and a tank top as quickly as your tired limbs can manage.

Entering Eddie’s room, you’re greeted with the sight of him already laid in bed with a lit joint between his lips. Dressed in a faded Motorhead shirt and boxers.

You’ve shared sleeping quarters plenty of times over the years, but now with your feelings for each other in the open and the sore tingling that lingers on your lips from his, shyness overcomes you. With rosy cheeks you shuffle your way to the other side of the bed, climbing in beside him before he passes the joint to you.

Gladly accepting the hit, smoke fills the bedroom with a comfortable silence falling between you. His arm extends behind your head, beckoning your cheek to rest against the warm, bare skin of his bicep.

“Sooooo” he begins, exhaling smoke from his lips before his eyes fall on you. “Does this mean you're my girl now?”

His voice falls soft on your ears, almost shy as his lips form a small smile. You blush at the question, diverting your eyes from his as you take the joint from his fingers for another hit.

“I’ve always been your girl. Even when you didn’t know it.”

“Well that makes two of us then” he smile widens before faltering. “Well- not girl. I mean, your boy?... I guess… whatever, you know what I mean.”

You giggle and he swears it’s his favorite sound in the whole world. Admiring the way your smile spreads to your round cheeks, making them pop out even more. If he didn’t already know you’d slap his hand away he’d pinch them, something he did one too many times to tease you in your younger years.

You turn on your side fully facing him as he takes the final hit of the joint, putting it out in the ashtray on the bedside table. Looking over his features, smiling when he catches you. Your hand reaches out to push his loose curls away from his face, breath catching in his throat at the sensation of your warm fingers grazing against his cheek.

“You’re so beautiful, Eds” you breathe out, causing blood to rush to his cheeks.

“You’re the most beautiful girl these cynical eyes have ever seen.” he recites like poetry, gazing adoringly at you.

“That was you?” Eyes widening at the realization.

“Who else did you think it was?”

“I don’t know… I thought it was just some prank.”

“Yeahh… you didn’t look too happy in class after I figured you’d seen it.”

You shake your head thinking back on it.

“It just brought up bad memories of that guy I told you about, Justin. All that stuff that happened with him… it was this time last year. Valentine’s Day and all.”

You watch his chest rise and fall with a sigh. A mix of anger and love filling him, seeing the lingering effects that asshole has left on you. His free hand reaches out to grab yours, thumb gently caressing the skin on the back of it.

“Hey” he calls your attention back to him, begging your eyes to meet his again. “You don’t have to worry about anything like that ever happening to you again.” he declares reassuringly.

You never thought you could love him more before tonight, and here he is yet again proving you wrong. When his head slowly creeps closer to yours, you don’t waste a second meeting him half way. Lips colliding in a slow kiss, soft breaths escaping each time your mouths part before meeting again, closing the distance between as your chest presses against him.

When sleepiness inevitably begins to take you over again, he wraps both arms around you and holds you against him. Your own sliding around his waist as your head finds a place on his chest for the night. Countless nights sleeping next to each other, Eddie finally gets to close the distance and hold you the way he’s always wanted. Chin resting atop your head, he’s the closest he’s ever felt to pure bliss.

With Eddie wiping away all your worst fears of what finally revealing your true feelings for him would look like, you easily give in to letting your heavy eyelids close. The rhythmic sound of his heart beating against your ear soothing you to sleep.

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x plussize!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #bestfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson friends to lovers #eddie munson fluff #one step away from you

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theinheriteddutchess · 3 months ago

Text

Dream Of A Girl

Part 2

Summary: Lee continues to pick his girl up from work

Warnings: things are heating up a little, touching, kissing, Lee being eager

18+, minors DNI, the usual

Word count: 2949

Notes: I love this story!! I really really do! Please let me know if you enjoy it too 💕

Series masterlist

Previous part

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The next day you finished work on time and looked around outside. Your eyes felt tired because you hadn't slept well. Thoughts kept running through your head, and no matter how much you tried to settle you just couldn't. You knew Sheriff Bodecker was going to pick you up today, and you were worried about what you were going to say to his questions. What you needed to ask him. Maybe you should just talk about his job. Your mother did that with your father. And then he asked her what she did that day, even if the answer was always the same. But they seemed happy together, so it was obviously working for them.

His car was waiting for you a few meters away and you Walked towards it. He opened it from the inside again and you took a seat.

He smiled at you and you awkwardly smiled back.

“You had a good day?”

“No.”

He seemed surprised, but recovered quickly. “ Oh? Anything you want to share?”

“No.”

He tsk’d. “Alright, I know when to back off.”

Back off what? You started sweating a bit, he looked…a bit annoyed? You should ask him about this day, right? That was a good start.

“Did you? Have a good day?”

He turned to look at you again, with a smile again. “I did. Nothing beats knowing you have a pretty girl waiting for you.”

Did he meet someone since yesterday? He told you he was alone then.

“That's nice,” you told him.

“I meant you,” he clarified.

You started sweating some more. “I.. I -”

He chuckled. “No one ever told you you were pretty before?”

You shook your head. No. Maybe only your parents. But that was it.

“They're so blind,” he murmured softly. “Well, their loss.”

It stayed quiet, you didn't know how to respond. Should you compliment him back?

“You want to hear about my day, sweetheart?” he finished the silence.

You shrugged. “Okay.”

And so he started taking about the crimes he prevented, the paperwork that was never ending, how he was looking to get re-elected.

“That would be easier with a wife by my side.” He glanced at you, while you kept your eyes firmly pointed straight ahead of you. “I hope I have that soon.”

You nodded. You gave up hope a long time ago, but you understood for other people it was a normal thing to do.

“You ever dream of marrying? Finding someone who give you his bite and a few pups to look after?”

“Not anymore,” you lowered your voice, too ashamed to admit.

“Why not?”

“No one wants to. With me.” You said, feeling anxiety course through you.

“Hey, hey, don't worry. I can smell your distress from here. Hold up.” He pulled over to park the car to the side and turned to you. He reached out his hand but you flinched, so it froze in the air until he lowered it by his side.

“It's okay, sweetheart, we're just talking. It's just me. You're safe, right?”

You nodded. He was the sheriff. He would protect you. But he couldn't protect you from your fears and feelings.

“So why did you get all scared, honey? Can you tell me?”

“Not scared,” you said, trembling. “Just not…I don't like talking about it.”

“But if you don't talk about it, I can't help you.”

Your eyes shifted, trying to look at something calm, something neutral. “You can't help.”

“Try it. Maybe I can." He watched you the whole time and you wished he didn't. “Sometimes it's easier to talk to someone you don't know as well. I'm not going to judge you. People tell me all sorts of things. I witnessed even more. No matter what you tell me, it won't surprise me, alright?”

You thought about it. And there was a suspicion he wasn't going to let go so easily anyway. You sighed.

“I'm not like the rest. They don't like me. They don't want me. So…I know I'm going to be alone. It's alright. I've accepted it. My parents want me, it's enough.”

“I like you.”

You looked at him quickly, surprised. “You don't know me.”

“I know you enough. I know your parents, they love you. I can tell. They're good parents. You're polite, you're smart and hard working, you never get into any trouble. And you seem very sweet.”

You felt a little warm with every word he said. It was too much. You brushed imaginary wrinkles out of your dress that didn't exist, just to be able to do something.

“You're so pretty. And your smell…” he groaned.

You felt heat shot through you. That was…it wasn't proper was it? You don't talk about smell. You.. kept it to yourself. Until you.. you mated. Why was he telling you this?

He leaned in a little. Sniffing. “You smell so good.”

His head was too near you, and you were trapped in the car, surrounded by his smell.

And it wasn't.. bad. He smelled nice even. But he shouldn't. He didn't have to be this near.

“Everytime you're near me, and I get a whiff of you, it feels right, ya know? Feels like home.”

You blinked. It did? You did?

“I just want to bring you flowers, and take you out. Maybe to the movies.”

“Too crowded, too much noise,” you piped up.

He chuckled. “Then for milkshakes, or a walk. Anything you'd like. I'll treat you so well. You'd want for nothing.”

You breathed him in. When you did, you felt less nervous. His scent making you feel something you hadn't before. You didn't understand why it did that.

“You'd like that sweetheart? Me taking you out? Showing you how good you are? You'd be making me so proud if you’d let me. Being around such a pretty girl.”

He talked like it was an honor. Like you were a price he wanted to show off. Like others would be jealous. You wanted to laugh. It would be the opposite. People would talk about him. Wonder why he'd show you interest. That he could do better.

“I don't…. I've never, I mean, you can't.”

“Why not? Are you telling me no?” His jaw tightened and he looked a little colder.

“You can do better than me. You're the sheriff. I'm not.. I'm not good.” You whispered, tears pricking in your eyes, having to confess that.

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” He moved nearer, almost touching you. “How could I not like you? You're always kind to everyone, I see you're great with kids, they love you, you’d make such a good momma.”

You felt warm all over. It was burning you from the inside.

“With your pretty dresses, always looking so good, so beautiful. You should see yourself when the sun shines and your hair lights up. Beautiful. I’d be so proud walking beside you, knowing I'm your man.”

His finger touched the fabric of your dress and your eyes followed it as it rubbed softly against it.

“They would all look at us, and they'd see what a great wife you would make. You’d be good for me right?”

The way his voice lowered made you want to agree. You struggled to keep it inside. His hand moved to your leg, warmth seeping through your dress and you trembled again.

“I know you'd be such a good girl. And I would be good for you too. I would spoil you. Anything you'd want. I would treat you real nice. Give you kisses whenever you wanted.” He sounded drunk. Like the men in your office at the end of the day sometimes. His voice felt like it was seeping into your bones, like you couldn't move.

“Fuck it.” He murmured, he put his hands on your jaw to turn you toward him and before you knew it, he pressed his lips against yours.

A thrill went through you. You wanted to struggle. You didn't like to be touched. But he was being gentle, and he smelled even better now, thick syrup, fresh lemon, spicy cinnamon…all the good things. His mouth was full and he moved it gently against yours. You didn't know what to do, but he didn't seem to mind. He let out a noise in the back of his mouth like he was in pain.

You were burning up. You felt so warm.

He pulled away shortly after, eyeing you carefully. Your eyes locked on his this time, like you couldn't even think to look away.

“Your first kiss?” He guessed. And you nodded.

“That's a real honor, sweetheart. I feel very happy to be your first.”

You looked down quickly, too overwhelmed to keep looking at him. You wanted to touch your mouth. Let your fingers touch the flesh and memorize the feeling of his lips on yours.

“You liked it?”

You hesitated, then nodded.

His scent thickened, heavy in the air, delicious.

“Good. Because I might just kiss you again.”

Oh God, you pressed your hands to your heart, it felt like it was beating out of your chest. He was going to kiss you again, maybe. And you didn't think you'd mind.

You laid awake that night, again, thinking over and over about that kiss. His scent was on you. Your mother widened her eyes when you stepped inside, but one look at you and she kept quiet, even if you thought she wanted to ask about it. Maybe she knew it was too soon. Maybe she feared you would get overwhelmed. Or perhaps she knew you wanted to keep it to yourself a little longer.

“Go freshen up before your father gets home,” she simply told you, and her hand carefully touched your shoulder briefly, like she wanted to fuss over you.

You were disappointed to remove his smell off you. But your father would want to know whose it was. And you didn't know what to say if he questioned you. The sheriff talked about dating, but he hadn't asked you out. You didn't know how serious he had been. Maybe you should ask him next time you saw him?

You could still remember what he smelled like later, in your bed, and you felt yourself heat up again thinking about it.

His mouth and his eyes. He was an attractive man. And he called you pretty!

Squeaky noises came out of your throat and you couldn't help it. It was all too much. But it was good. You hoped. You thought.

He picked you up again, and asked if you wanted to go for milkshakes, but you shook your head. You had started to get a headache. The office was especially loud that day and you felt the noise still throbbing in your head.

You pressed your hands against the side of your face, trying to squeeze out the pain until you felt him grab your wrists and remove them.

You wanted to pull away, but he wouldn't let you. He pulled you against him, ignored your struggling and shushed you.

“Hey, hey! Sweetheart. It's okay. Shh, just smell me…here, come on.”

He pushed your face into the crook of his neck, right where his gland was. As soon as your nose was pressed against it, you sagged a little. His scent enveloping you completely. A whine escaped you.

“That's it. Feels better right? you don't have to do anything, or think of anything but now. You're safe. Just relax.”

And you did, taking big whiffs of his scent, eyes closed, trying to relax.

“You're being a good girl aren't you? Letting me take care of you like this.” You heard his voice murmur in your ear, felt the rumbling in his chest. Your hands gripping his shirt, not caring if you wrinkled it. “It feels mighty fine having you trust me to help you. You're making me feel real good sweetheart.”

No one had ever spoken to you like this. Like you were worthy. Like you mattered. Like they cared. You made him feel good? You made the most pathetic noise.

“I know. It's a lot. But you're doing so well. You like my scent sweetheart?”

You nodded. You did. You liked it a lot. You could stay here forever, blocking out the rest of the world.

“I'm so pleased, sweetheart. I like yours too…will you let me scent you as well? I've been thinking about it all night. I would love to carry you with me. It will make the lonely nights better.. You can do that for me right?”

You nodded, mumbling something unintelligible, but he seemed to understand. He pushed your face up, gently, his hands holding your head up as he stared into your eyes, while you tried to focus but felt too dazed to manage, until he pushed his face into your neck.

His nose against your gland made your shiver. It was like your mind stopped functioning. You felt the most pathetic whine bubbling up your throat, but you held onto his shirt for dear life, afraid to fall if you let go.

His mouth…he moved it over your skin, something wet moved over that special spot and you spasmed.

He pulled back in surprise and watched you carefully. One you stopped trembling, and his face came into focus, he looked…you couldn't place how he looked.

“Did you just..?”

You blinked owlishly. What?

“Oh God, okay, it's okay baby. You did so good,” he quickly told you, but he sounded off. He looked tense.

Maybe you made him mad.

“Nature’s calling, honey, I'll be right back okay. You watch the car for me.”

He practically ran out of the car and went into the nearest shop. You sat there, stunned. Had you done something wrong? But what he did felt really good. It felt like you got lifted out of your body and pulled back in. Like an elastic snapping back into place.

You didn't know what happened, but he didn't seem to like it. You hung your head, hiding your face in shame. He was angry. You were sure of it. You didn't know what you were going to say when he came back.

Maybe he didn't want you to be in the car once he got back? But he had told you to watch it for him. So you stayed.

It took a while before he returned. His cheeks were rosy and he had a smile around his mouth. Maybe things were okay? Maybe he really did need to use the bathroom?

He stepped inside again and smiled at you. “There we go. Sorry. Sometimes you can't hold it, can you?”

You nodded, hesitant.

“Aaw, sweetheart, are you shy? You don't have to, I liked it.”

Liked it? You didn't know what it was, but he wasn't mad that it happened?

You gave him a glance, to see how he was looking and he seemed relaxed and good natured. He licked his lips.

“Can I get a kiss, sweetheart? I've been thinking about it all day.” He stared at you expectantly.

You pondered, but you had liked it yesterday, and you were relieved he wasn't angry, so you nodded.

“Come on then, kiss me,” he said teasingly.

Oh. You moved over to him, unsure if how to do this, but just decided to press your lips against his. Upclose he smelled very intense. His scent thicker than before, so you gasped. When you did that, his tongue was suddenly in your mouth, and his hands moved against your face holding you in place.

It was wet. And weird. But his smell was so overpowering that it wasn't the worst. His tongue tried to coax yours into moving as well but you didn't know how. You just let him move and tried to move as well.

You had expected to hate it. The kissing, the touching. But it didn't feel bad. You liked it. He felt nice, he smelled nice. He said nice things. He made your body float, like you were in the water. Weightless.

His hands stroked your cheeks, moved to your neck, and suddenly pressed on your gland. You moaned and sagged into his chest.

“God, look at you. You're feeling real nice, aren't you, sweetheart? I am going to be a gentleman, though, and bring you back so you can be a good girl to your mommy and daddy. No need to rush. But who knew you'd be so responsive? I thought I was going to have to try harder, but it turns out you're just as affected by me as I am about you huh?”

You couldn't do much more than run your nose on his neck, so close to his gland again.

He sighed. “I’ve kept you long enough, don't want your parents to worry. I want them to like me, show them I've got good intentions. Can't do that when you're coming back all ruffled. Come on sweetheart, back in your seat you go.” He moved you carefully as you blinked at him.

“It's alright, just some space, honey, we need to both calm down a little, huh? I still need to drive, and you have to fix your hair. I might've messed it up a little. You look good though,” he smiled tenderly at you.

You touched your hair. He was right, it had come out of its pins, you tried to make it presentable again.

“I would really like to take you out in the weekend, would you like that? Maybe we could take a walk in the park, or go for ice cream.”

“I, I like ice cream,” you admitted.

He smiled happily, “Then ice cream it is.”

Next part

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #Lee Bodecker #Sebastian Stan fanfiction #neurodivergent reader #alpha!lee bodecker #alpha and omega #omegaverse #alpha lee bodecker x Omega reader #soft!dark lee Bodecker #dream of a girl

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