#everyone got their own angle too LOL

[cephiwyrm]

biggest fucking clutch in salmon run history

[jiminrings]

four seven eight, phase three: intermission.

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: jungkook hasn’t had any drinks so far, but he’s the rawest he’s ever been.

alternatively, jungkook has three separate conversations while he’s at the club.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale — complete series masterlist, from phase 1 to 3 ]

Yoongi always finds some way to piss Jungkook off.

Your husband isn’t sure if he’s just that easy to piss off or if Yoongi really is an extremely annoying person that gets on everyone’s nerves (his especially), but regardless, your friend always finds some way to set him to the edge.

Jungkook almost bended a fork with his teeth when you called out baby along with your subsequent request for him to pass the sauce, but even before he could reach for said container, Yoongi (who was sitting on the other end of the table) dashes over to your seat to give you sauce and piss him off in the process.

He almost grabbed Yoongi by the hair that one time when you were on your last shot on your film camera and you wanted to take a photo of them, but right at the last second of you taking it, Yoongi told him there was a cockroach by his feet which immediately made it look like Jungkook was bowing to him. He’s already ripped up the picture as soon as you got it developed, but the anger at the seemingly surface-level tricks he pulled on him always ate at him.

Jungkook only texted Yoongi awhile ago, and while he wasn’t expecting an immediate reply given the time difference, he almost wished the latter didn’t even respond in the first place. 

you’re hwayoung’s godfather

look after her while i’m gone

The two of them have been civil, maybe even friendly at best, since yours and Jungkook’s month-long break before Hwayoung came along; Jungkook doesn’t expect much from Yoongi except for the bare minimum — the problem is that Yoongi himself wants to go above and beyond.

i know that

i don’t need you to be gone for me to look after hwayoung lol

Jungkook huffs at the insinuation, brows immediately knitted as he tries to focus his eyes on his phone that seems to be the brightest source of light in the dimmed, packed club.

?

He can admit to himself (to you too, but never to anyone else especially Yoongi) that he can sometimes go overboard looking in between the lines. It’s this nagging feeling in Jungkook’s brain that he needs to analyze everything from all angles when it concerns you and the people who are fond of you. It’s this irritating quirk of his that he himself hates because he can’t be placated at the thought of something, someone, getting in between the two of you.

Especially if it’s Yoongi, even if he’s already sworn up and down that he’s moved on from you.

Most especially Yoongi, who’s close to his family in more ways than one, now that he’s left for the meantime.

i’ll take care of y/n too dw :)

Jungkook seethes at that, his thumbs already moving on their own accord to type out a reply he barely has the consciousness to discern. He can’t bring himself to read in between the lines now; now, when he’s apart from you and Hwayoung and there’s neither a husband nor father figure at home, and now, when everything dawns on him that everything that’s happening now is real.

go fuck yourself

Everything in and out of Jungkook’s reach is real. The fight you had two days ago was indeed real, and what reminds him of that is your messages that only detail about Hwayoung and nothing else. Yoongi being h*mself which is an annoyance within its own, is real and is proved by the laughing reaction that he only attached to Jungkook’s very genuine, very offensive profanity.

Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to entertain the possibility that Yoongi’s only messing with him as per usual. He doesn’t have the energy to detangle the complicated knots in his mind that all point to him being the reason for his own undoing.

The only energy that your husband has at the moment is to switch apps, regulate his breathing, and head straight to the live footage from the security camera in Hwayoung’s room. Jungkook feels sane again (maybe even the feeling greater than contentment, but not more than happiness) when he sees the two of you pop up on screen, your laughs immediately drowning out the blaring music.

“My pretty girls,” he mumbles under his breath, his thumb twitching to switch between apps again and finally have the courage to actually talk to you about what happened and not just fawn over how Hwayoung’s breezing through her milestones while he’s been gone.

He hasn’t had anything to drink yet, and while he’s relieved at that, there’s a sense of cowardice that creeps up in Jungkook’s throat. He feels pathetic and unsurprisingly, characteristically weak when it comes to you.

Your husband settles for pushing the button that makes the security camera ding, indicating that he’s indeed watching you and Hwayoung, before he screws his eyes shut in fear that you’ll only scowl at him through the screen.

You don’t.

Instead, you only smile lightly. You’re tired and you’re filled with pent-up sentiments because you can’t exactly gossip to Hwayoung how her dad has been frustrating you to no end lately, and yet, you still smile for him because she’s watching.

There’s a knot that forms in his throat when you prop Hwayoung in front of the camera and coo at her to wave because he’s watching. There’s this unmistakeable sting behind Jungkook’s eyes because he’s reminded yet again that everything’s real; that unlike him, you’re not weak. 

You’re filled with so much love as evidenced by the way you look at Hwayoung with no fear at all of messing everything up, and it makes Jungkook choke over nothing. You have your fears too, but not one of them comes close to the degree that his doubts are in — perhaps you do have a fear of losing everything just like he does, except the resounding difference is that you’re not a coward like him.

Namjoon’s jostled him atleast three times for the past ten minutes and he’ll succumb to his friend sooner or later, but not now when Jungkook rethinks every word he’s ever said and how he misspoke, not now when he’s made the mistake of even calling Eunsu as his muse when he can’t even grasp the weight of the word when he calls someone else that in front of his wife.

Jungkook’s still a coward, with or without a drink, but he’s in the latter state when he brings out his other phone to finally call you.

He sees you flinch silently through the security camera, gaze averting from a napping Hwayoung on your lap to your phone that’s ringing. You purse your lips in hesitation yet you don’t quiver, accepting his call but not without looking straight at the camera before you do.

You’re neither unattached nor resigned with Jungkook — you’re simply stuck in the middle with him, even if the demarcation about who gets the shorter end of the stick is unclear.

“I didn’t mean anything I said last night,” he admits straightly, sparing no time as his chest tightens.

“You sounded like it,” you frown, absent-mindedly stroking Miso’s fur who just conjured out of nowhere at the exact time your husband called you.

“At the time, yes,” he sighs heavily, the knot in his throat refusing to unravel even if he’s already baring his truth. “But at that time too, I was beyond stupid a-and emotional. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I know me being drunk shouldn’t be an excuse,” Jungkook swallows, his hand cupping the air instead of a shot glass reminding him of his stupidity. “I was out of it. I couldn’t keep everything in check.”

Your voice remains hushed, but you don’t have it in you to discern if it’s only because Hwayoung is sleeping on your lap, or if talking to Jungkook lately robs you of your will to be on the same level as him.

“You could’ve told me as soon as you felt… that way, Jungkook.”

He sucks in a breath, chewing on his bottom lip as he tries not to cry rethinking about your fight. “I did try to, but as soon as you did, you asked me if taking care of Hwayoung felt like a chore to me.”

“Does it?” you ask again, ironically coinciding with Jungkook’s point that it makes him chuckle lightly. You were always so stubborn — almost always similar to his temperament.

“I respect you a lot, Y/N. You put a roof over over our heads, you put food on the table, you have everything figured out.”

“Jungkook,” you mumble, sensing the inevitable conjunction that separates the both of you further.

“But I’m the one who knows what I’m feeling the most, not you,” Jungkook sighs shakily, voice hushed even quieter than the way you look at him silently through the screen. 

He can see you, but you can’t see him. 

“We’re both parents to Hwayoung at the end of the day but in that— in that same day, you spend more time being the working parent while I’m the stay-at-home parent,” he confides, his tone gentle and slow unlike the way his drunken nature persuaded him otherwise. “Taking care of Young-ie isn’t a chore for me. Yes, it’s repetitive. I-it could be exhausting and draining but that’s what it comes with being a dad. I’m her dad. I’m the one who’s with her. I’m bound to feel this way,” he pauses, breath hitching. “I’m not asking you to forgive me right away for all the shit I said. I’ve been unfair springing all of this on you on such short notice.”

You look straight at the camera, bottom lip quivering as you wrap your head around Jungkook’s sober vulnerability.

“I’ve been unfair too,” you mutter, eyes downcast because even if you can’t see Jungkook, there’s a false image of him that floats in your mind, belittling you for not being enough. “I didn’t see it from your point of view.”

There’s only silence between the two of you, the noise of the club being expertly drowned out even through the distortion of the line.

“You can forgive me tomorrow or next week, even— but the sooner the better, of course,” Jungkook chides playfully after a few seconds, smiling to himself when he visibly sees the tension melt away from your shoulders.

“You’re annoying.”

“I’m asking you to give me a chance, baby. Give me a little leeway,” Jungkook pleads, in between light chuckles and strained desperation that an honest, sober husband like him could give to you while you’re long-distance. “Give me a little time to figure out a balance. I-I can’t be the best husband and dad that I want— need to be if I can’t figure myself out.”

“I get it,” you nod, your thumb unconsciously adjusting the wedding on your ring finger that’s become slightly askew. “But you promise me that you’ll come home, Jungkook,”

“I promise.”

“You have to promise me too that there’s no one else.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook tuts warningly, his confused frown at you being genuine in nature as if you could see him in real time trying to digest your paranoia. “Where’s this coming from?”

“Promise me,” you repeat again with a short-lived whine, the stirring of Hwayoung on your lap making his heart soften and your call interrupted.

“I promise.”

Jungkook relaxes into his seat, eyes still fixed on the security app on his phone as he watches you rock his daughter to sleep, pointing to the camera every now and then to tell her that her appa’s watching. 

Namjoon and Eunsu come over with drinks, and as much as there’s a momentary wave of relief that washes over Jungkook because he’s seeing familiar people, there’s a dubiously-coated type of tension that replaces the knot on his throat.

“Ah, my pretty producer,” Eunsu hands him his drink, looking past the platinum wedding band that Jungkook hadn’t dared to take off even once the whole trip, along with his phone that displays his family in full brightness. “I believe we haven’t met properly.”

[hgfictionwriter]

Handy

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Sometimes you forget Jessie’s an engineer. A very thoughtful, but shy one at that. One who feels more comfortable renovating your apartment than telling you she likes you.

Warnings: No warnings.

A/N: I'm hearing some fluff is in order. Hope you all enjoy!

"Where do you want this?" Jessie asked as she stood holding a large box in the doorway to your new bedroom.  

You looked over your shoulder and pointed to the walk-in closet. "Over there would be great. Thank you." 

"No problem," Jessie replied as she walked over and set the box down. She looked around as she stood. "Are you doing anything with the shelving in here?" 

"Oh yeah," you said as you got up and joined her. "I'm going to move these shelves up and add another set here to create more storage." 

"Smart. That'll be good," Jessie affirmed as she scanned the space.

You tried not to stare, but her profile, curious eyes, and the way her baby hairs stuck to her face after several trips to and from the moving truck made it challenging.   

"Hey, I think that's everything." 

Both you and Jessie turned when Janine's voice filtered in from the bedroom, seeing Kelli standing beside her.  

"Oh amazing. Thank you so much, all of you. I'm sure your coach would have my head if he knew you helped me move, but I'm very grateful. And hey - no injuries! Knock on wood. I guess you all still have to make it home in one piece," you joked.  

"Anytime," Janine said as she crossed the room and gave you a hug. "The new digs look great. Condo ownership looks good on you." 

You laughed. "Thank you. And it's even better when highly trained athletes do all the heavy lifting for you." 

"No unpacking though," Kelli joked. "That's where I draw the line." You held up your hands in mock surrender. 

"I can handle that part. Thank you. Next round of dinner and drinks are on me." 

Once everyone left and you continued the tedious task of unpacking, your phone dinged with a text. You retrieved it to see Jessie's name on the screen. 

"Hey. I hope unpacking is going well. I just wanted to say that if you need any help redoing your shelves I'm happy to swing by. I like projects like that." 

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.  

"Sometimes I forget you're an engineer. You've done so much as is - I already rolled the dice by getting you to help me move furniture and precariously packed boxes. I don’t want to push." 

"I really don't mind! And setting up shelves is a lot less risky than holding the bottom end of the couch on the stairs while Kelli and Janine argue about how to angle it through a doorway." 

You laughed recalling the scene in your mind. She had a point. Plus, spending some time alone, just the two of you, wouldn't be unwanted.  

You'd met through Janine a few months back and had become friends in your own right since then, but it was still the norm that you typically only saw each other with Janine. This could be a nice change of pace. And, you know, if seeing her work in such a capacity would turn out to be eye candy - so be it.  

"Alright. You've convinced me. When are you free? And please, please know that if you change your mind it's really not a problem at all. Please don't feel pressured or obliged." 

"Excellent! Does next Sunday work for you? I'd say Saturday, but we have a game that afternoon." 

"I'm aware lol. I'll be there, after all. Sunday sounds great." 

"Right lol. Okay, Sunday it is! Let me know if you need me to pick anything up prior. I'm happy to." 

"You're too sweet. See you then." 

----- 

"You brought your own drill set?" You asked with an amused smile. The blush on Jessie's face was immediate. 

"Well, I didn't know what you had." Her voice rising in pitch. "And I have a spare battery. There's nothing worse mid-project than running out of a charge." 

"Nothing," you mocked affectionately and she averted her gaze as her cheeks grew redder. You smiled at her and ushered her to the walk-in. "Okay, well, between the two of us I think we're all set. Let's get started." 

It didn't take long for it to become Jessie leading and you helping. Going in, you felt you had a decent grasp of what to do, but as the work progressed, you realized how good it was that Jessie was here because she guided things with confidence and ease that you had to admit you probably wouldn't have had in her absence.  

You were expecting this to be an all day venture, but with Jessie at the helm the work went by quickly and smoothly.  

"Hand me that last shelf, please," she instructed calmly as she double-checked her work. 

You were ready with it and handed it up to her. You watched in what you hoped was subtle appreciation as she set it in place.

She stood perched on the ladder, wearing her black hat and her shirt was tucked in. The tape measure was hooked onto her pocket and she wore a soft look of concentration on her face. When she took the shelf, her biceps popped as she lifted it and set it down on the brackets with ease. The pencil tucked behind her ear was the cherry on top.  

Once she was confident the shelf was secure, she turned to you with a bright smile.  

"All done! What do you think?" 

"It's fantastic," you relayed, forcing yourself to refocus. And it was true. Not only was her workmanship thorough, but she'd tweaked a few things in your plan to optimize the setup even further. "Thank you so much. This is better than what I could've imagined. I owe you big time." 

She shrugged and focused on her feet as she stepped down off the ladder. "No, it's all good. It was fun." 

"Well, I really appreciate it. Truly," you went on, seeking eye contact, but she seemed to readily avoid it as she began cleaning up her tools. Eventually, she looked to you with a small smile. 

"Don't mention it. Thanks for letting me help." 

You rolled your eyes teasingly. "You're funny. Can I at least order us in some dinner and make you a drink or two?" You saw her begin to hesitate, a blush creeping up on her cheeks as she fidgeted. Early on, you would've immediately backed off, fearing you were making her truly uncomfortable, but by this point you knew she was just shy. And a bit skittish. You went on gently. "Consider it a small token of my appreciation." 

She gave you a crooked smile as she distractedly readjusted her hat before seeming to catch herself and clasped both hands in front of her. "Okay, sure. That sounds good." 

You two talked fairly late into the night and you noted how Jessie relaxed into the evening. Conversation was easy and naturally weaved from the light and fun to the more serious and heavy without getting uncomfortable or awkward. The night only came to an end because you had to work in the morning.  

"Thank you again for all of your help," you told her as she stood at your front door, shoes, jacket and backpack on. "Not only does the closet look great, but it was a lot of fun - thanks to you. I can't help but think about projects half that serious that I've done with exes and they've turned into all out brawls. So, thank you." 

Her posture straightened slightly and as she blushed with a nervous laugh. "Well, what can I say. We work well together." If you were right, the flush of her cheeks deepened. She averted her gaze, shuffling her feet a bit before she shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and nodded over your shoulder.  

"You said you were going to change out the lighting fixtures in the living room, right?" She asked. Her smile morphed into a smirk. "I mean, I'm not an electrical engineer, but a couple lighting fixtures is no big deal. I could come over next week and help with those." 

You gave her a smirk of your own, unknowingly looking her up and down.  

"If you'd really like to. I certainly won't stop you." 

The easy confidence she was trying to channel a moment ago flickered before she gave you a nonchalant shrug.  

"Sure. It's not a problem." 

"Alright," you accepted. "I'm looking forward to it. Thanks again, and good night." You leaned forward and pulled her into a short hug - something you hadn't done before - and it seemed to catch her off-guard as she very belatedly put her hands up around you as you were already beginning to pull away, and even then, her movements were stiff and tentative. When you fully broke away her face was beet red.  

"Okay." Her voice was high and tight. She gave you a quick, awkward wave before turning to leave. "Have a good night."  

----- 

The next weekend rolled around and Jessie was yet again up on a ladder in your new apartment. She tilted her head and frowned in concentration as she installed the last set of screws on your new lighting fixture.  

"Okay, go ahead and turn the breaker back on," she told you as she stepped down and walked over to the light switch. You did as you were told. 

"Okay, done." 

The switch went on with a soft click and light filled the room. You watched her before looking up at the newly installed fixture. She smirked.  

"Looks good," she said. “How do you like it?”

“It's brilliant. Thank you again. But what I’m really interested in is this,” you said as you closed the space between you two and grasped her hand, she tensed at the contact, but didn’t pull away. You lifted her hand to see the cut on her knuckle.

“I knew it. Let’s get you cleaned up,” you said and at that she pulled her hand back, hiding it behind her back.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“I know you are, but still,” you told her gently, noting the embarrassed look on her face. “Indulge me. Let me at least put a bandaid on it.”

She grumbled in contemplation but eventually conceded. You smiled to yourself at how her head jerked away when you glanced up from her hand to catch her staring at you.

When you finished placing the bandaid on her you released her hand and took a step back. You waited to catch her eye and spoke, “Make sure you clean that up more when you get home.”

Her cheeks grew pink and she rolled her eyes. You caught the hint of a smile on her lips though.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Jessie stayed for dinner and a drink once more. Conversation flowed even easier, if that’s possible, than last time. You tried to hide the smile over how pleased you were by this since you and Jessie had been texting all week in between. It would've been understandable if you ran out of things to talk about by this point, but you didn’t - at all.

"I noticed there were a couple of dings in the drywall - probably from when we were moving stuff in. Probably Janine's doing - I'm much more conscientious," Jessie relayed with a facetious eye roll. "I could patch those up for you. I imagine the previous owners left some of the original paint or we could just get it paint matched." 

You smirked at her from across the couch.  

"You know, we could always just hang out - no reno job required. You don’t have to do something every time." 

She blushed and took a sip of her drink.  

"Oh, well, you know. I don’t mind." 

"Well, how about we just hang out next time. If you are desperate to repair the drywall even after that, well, have at 'er. But maybe a work-free, normal hang out would be nice," you told her with a soft laugh. She nodded, blush fading as she returned your smile.  

“Okay, that sounds like a plan." She swirled her drink, looking down at the churning liquid and speaking into it. "You could come over to my place? I could make us dinner. Or whatever." She finally mustered up the courage to look back up at you.

Now it was your turn to blush. You fiddled with your glass and offered her a hint of a smile. "Okay. That sounds nice." 

————

“Whoa. That’s fancy,” Jessie commented as you set down a nice bottle of Chardonnay on her counter.

“Well, it’s my first time over. I had to break out the good stuff for you.”

Jessie grinned and retrieved a couple of glasses for you before setting down two plates of food on the kitchen table.

“This looks amazing,” you told her as you looked at the meal she prepared. “And I can’t help but think this just isn’t fair. You did all this free work for me and now you’ve made me dinner.”

“Was it free?” She squinted at you teasingly. “You had to listen to me babble on about metric versus imperial for a solid 20 minutes there.”

“I didn’t mind. I’d listen to that any day. I like hearing your facts and tidbits and about whatever you're interested in,” you assured her and she tried to conceal her smile. “How’d you become so handy anyway? I mean, I know you have this engineering background now, but still.”

She shrugged. “I liked helping my dad with projects around the house. Helping him build stuff. It was just always fascinating to me to see things come together like that and to know you did it with your own two hands.”

“That’s cute. And very sweet,” you told her as you took a bite. She dismissed your comment with a small wave of her fork.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Well. I still think it’s cute. And I certainly reaped the rewards. Thank you again - seriously, for all of your help. You didn’t have to help me, and I really appreciate all the work you did.”

She took a sip of wine and peered at you over the glass, taking a moment to contemplate.

“There’s still that matter of the drywall,” she joked.

“You’re still on that, huh?” You said with a laugh. “What are we going to do when there are no projects left to work on?”

A faint blush began to form on Jessie’s face and she shuffled around in her chair a bit before taking a bite of food.

“There are always projects to be done. And if not, well, you’re the one who said we could hang out without a project to work on.”

You propped your elbow on the table and rest your chin in your open palm. “And the offer still stands. Clearly,” you gestured around her apartment. “If you’re interested.” Jessie dropped your gaze and flushed a deeper tone of pink.

“Yeah. I mean, we get along alright.”

You snickered a bit before taking a sip of your drink.

“What resounding affirmation," you said dryly and she shot you a bashful look. You smirked. "I guess it’s settled then.”

You polished off the bottle of wine that evening and your conversation carried you late into the night. You made a point of not checking the time and Jessie made no attempt to either. You had to work in the morning, but you just didn't care. You'd deal with the consequences later.

At some point though, an inevitable yawn escaped Jessie.

“Oh, I should let you get to sleep,” you offered, though not yet moving from your spot on the couch next to her. You were sitting across from one another and you were very aware of how if either of you shifted in a particular way, your legs would brush.

“No, it’s fine,” she dismissed. “I’ll get my second wind here in no time.” You chuckled and finally checked your phone. Your eyes went wide.

“Oh shit,” you laughed. “Well, I’ve worked off of less sleep before.”

“You didn’t tell me you were working,” she frowned at you. “Yeah, some clients are in from out of town. It’s okay, I wanted to hang out with you.” You reluctantly rose from the couch and she followed. “As much as I'm enjoying myself, I should go. I can get about 4 hours of sleep if there are no delays on the train.”

“You are not taking the train,” Jessie told you in the most stern voice you’d ever heard from her. It actually caught you off guard and you ignored the stirring in your chest at her display.

“Fine. An Uber,” you conceded.

“No. I’ll drive you,” she countered.

“Don’t be silly.” You waved her off. “You’re tired too and I’m not making you drive 30 minutes across town and back at this hour.”

“Then…I don't know, just spend the night.” She immediately held up her hands in defense. “Not like that. I just mean…it’s super late, getting home is going to be a pain. I’ll drive you home in the morning whenever you’re ready.”

“Jessie…” It was tempting. The logic wasn’t entirely bulletproof, but reasonable enough.

In the time you took to start contemplating, Jessie had run to the closet and started pulling out spare pillows and blankets. You looked at them when she returned and gave her a discerning look. You didn’t feel uncomfortable, you just didn’t want to intrude.

“I’ll take an Uber in the morning.” You told her and she gave you an easy smile as she began setting up the couch.

“I’ll drive you,” she repeated nonchalantly.

“Oh my god. You’re so stubborn,” you complained half-heartedly.

“Sometimes,” she admitted with a shrug as she went to her room for a few moments and came back out with a set of pyjamas.

“Don’t tell Janine. She’ll never let me hear the end of this,” you warned in mock petulance as you went to take the clothes from her. She pulled her fingers across her lips, feigning a zipping motion.

“She wouldn’t let me hear the end of it either, so I'd say we're now partners in crime,” she laughed, but held the clothes back from you. “These are mine. Yours are on the bed.”

“Huh?” You asked, giving her a blatant look of confusion.

“I’m sleeping out here. You take the bed,” she returned lightly and before you could retort she gently began to corral you towards her bedroom.

“Jessie.” You protested. “Are you nuts? I’m taking the couch.”

“Incorrect,” she refuted before giving you one final, soft push into the room. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She looked up at the ceiling, seeming to calculate something in her head. “6 am?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, still giving her a lingering look of disapproval. Before you could conjure a retort, she went on.

"This is my house, so what I say goes," she said rather haughtily, coupled with a subtle smirk. She was evidently very pleased with herself and her mannerisms had you too distracted, a small flutter echoing in your chest, so you let it be. You rolled your eyes.

“Fine. Okay. Well, if you change your mind - feel free to kick me out. Of your bedroom or the apartment - either is fine.”

“Now who’s nuts,” she quipped. Her light and easy demeanour wavered slightly as she paused in the doorway and ran a hand through her hair. “Um, well, bathroom’s through there. Help yourself to whatever. Good night.”

You were still in vague disbelief about how the last part of the night had unfolded as you lay in Jessie’s bed, wearing her clothes. Had you previously imagined being in Jessie’s bed? Yes. Did you imagine this? No. Certainly not.

All things considered, you slept pretty well. You didn't expect yourself to, so it was a surprise when your alarm went off. It took you a few moments for your mind to reconcile the unfamiliar surroundings, but you quickly came to. You sat up, the first rays of morning light illuminating the room and you observed them in a more lucid headspace than you had the night before.

The room was neat, organized, minimalistic in a way, but still had plenty of things that made it Jessie. A few framed photos of family and friends, her camera, a few, select books neatly displayed, some cute trinkets from her trips around the globe - no medals on display though. How typical.

A sound from the kitchen pulled you from your observations with a frown. You thought you were hearing things at first until you heard a few more faint sounds.

You quickly got changed and tentatively opened the bedroom door a crack to peer out. Not only was Jessie up already, she was in the middle of making breakfast. You opened the door the rest of the way with a puzzled look on your face. She turned to you with a smile.

"Morning! How did you sleep?"

"How long have you been up?" You asked instead. She glanced at her watch.

"I don't know. 30 minutes maybe? So, how did you sleep?" She repeated her inquiry.

"Shockingly well," you replied with a light laugh as you leaned on the kitchen counter and watched her work. "How about you? Miss I-insist-on-taking-the-couch."

She shot you a smirk over her shoulder as she scrambled the eggs in the frying pan. "I slept perfectly well, thank you," she relayed pointedly. "Coffee?" She asked.

"Please."

"Black, right?"

You smiled at her. "Yes, thank you. Can I do anything to help you?"

"Nope, just about done," she told you as she handed you a travel mug with steaming hot coffee. "For the road," she explained.

You watched Jessie as she turned back to the stove and continued making breakfast. For a split second, you pictured yourself as a couple in this moment. Easy mornings together, sharing breakfast and coffee, talking about your day ahead, kissing each other goodbye and going your separate ways until you came home to one another. You cleared your throat and shook out your head subtly as you came back to reality. You didn't want to get too far ahead of yourself.

You both ate a quick breakfast together, and took your toast and coffee to go. Jessie navigated through traffic on the way to your apartment. You scolded yourself internally for how you found something as simple as Jessie driving, attractive. Okay, maybe you really had it bad for her.

"I have to say, I feel like I'm 18 again or something," you joked. "Getting 4 hours of sleep, going through a whole bunch of hoops just to get to school - or work in this case - on time. It's ridiculous. But it was fun." You took a sip of your coffee. "I bet you were in bed by 10 every night in uni - minus late game nights, if that was a thing. But 8 hours of sleep, very responsible, all your readings and homework done."

Jessie shot you a mild glare.

"I've had some wild nights," she countered, not sounding entirely convincing, or even remotely, really. It endeared her to you more.

"Oh yeah, I bet you were a real bad girl," you teased. Jessie rolled her eyes.

"Oh, and like you were."

You sat primly and gave her a sly smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know."

You bantered back and forth the rest of the drive, and again, it felt like you were already something you were not. You found yourself lamenting your arrival as she pulled up to your building. Pushing aside your disappointment, you instead leaned over the middle console and gave Jessie a fleeting kiss on the cheek. She startled at the touch.

"Thanks for driving me. And for letting me spend the night. And for dinner," you frowned as you added things to the list. "I've gotta start pulling my weight here."

"No," she said in a strained voice, her cheeks flaring up as she glanced at you before her eyes darted away. She laughed nervously and scratched the back of her neck. "Don't mention it."

You gave her forearm a quick squeeze, a blush threatening to form on your own face at how firm the muscles were there, and stepped out of the car. You walked to your door, quickly strategizing if or when to turn back and wave when you heard her call out your name. You turned around with a puzzled look on your face.

"Uh, I could drive you to work? When you're ready?" She offered from the car through the now-open window. Her face burned impossibly brighter red. "It'll be faster than the bus."

You smiled openly at her.

"Oh, you're just spoiling me now." She smiled in return. "Well, who am I to say 'no'?" ------

A/N: Part Two is available here.

[ellecdc]

Nsfw!

Moonwater is a bit new pairing for me and i love it too much but i always wonder how the dynamic are in the bedroom, i really dont think both men are anything other than rough.

I mean when needed the boys would be gentle but most of the time i dont think so? Remus, maybe? could be gentler but during full moon he’s an animal but regulus tho, i dont see him as the gentle type.

What do you think?

oooou ok ok I like it, I like it; let's discuss below

CW: discussing sex and dynamics, NSFW, mdni 18+

So, this first part is going to be my own personal opinion based off of who I am as a person, and my views may not be shared within the fandom. I personally struggle with super abrasive dom/sub dynamics where a male character is very overbearing, controlling, etc. THAT DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T LIKE ANY DOM/SUB DYNAMICS, just that fics where a male character is being super aggressive and demeaning and such really aren't my vibe, if that makes sense?

I personally struggle imagining our sweet, sad boy Remus as being super mean in bed? Doesn't mean I don't think he's in charge, especially in poly!scenarios because when there's that many people in bed, someone has to run the show lol, but I don't see him as super bossy and assertive.

Now, keeping in mind that this is my interpretation on a character who literally doesn't exist (which is so sad wtf), my version of 'dom!remus' looks more like a very assured, confident guy in bed; he knows what he's doing, he's good at it, and he knows how to get everyone where they're trying to go (i.e., orgasm city, obviously). He takes care of everyone in bed, and (in the case of poly!marauders or poly!wolfstar) he certainly redirects anyone's naughty (bratty) behaviour (read: sirius), but I think he'd also be super communicative and understanding that it's a dance, not a battle which adds to his assuredness and confidence in bed because people feel safe with him - they know that he knows what he's doing and can let go because they trust him with their safety and their pleasure - and he's in bed with his partner's, not his adversaries.

I've often imagined his love language (how he shows love) to be acts of service and physical touch, which I think goes hand in hand with how he is in bed; when he's in a relationship with these ships, he's making love, not just fucking

HOWEVER.....

I think you're right...some things definitely change around the full moon. I think leading up to the moon (depending on if it was a manic moon or if he was moonsick) there'd be a very noticeable change in him. For manic moons - he'd be a little more desperate, a little rougher (while still being our sweet guy as mentioned above lol), and I think there would be way more sex. He'd be insatiable and obsessed with you; "come on dovey, one more for me, yeah? you're so good, so good for me; i know you can do one more". Good luck trying to pry him from between your legs.

if he was riddled with moonsickness (immediately after every moon or leading up to a bad moon where he is sore and such), i think he might be a bit of a switch? He'd want to be held and cherished and taken care of - he'd nearly cry in awe every time you got on your knees to give him a lazy, gentle blowjob, or if you were in the mood, he'd lay back and let you ride him (he actually loved it - thought you looked beautiful up there)

Now for Regulus lolololololol

No one who grew up in the dynamics Regulus did is vanilla in bed, I'm sorry. (and I come from a place of authority in this - I relate a little too well to Sirius [though not as violent, obviously]). Honestly? I could see Regulus being mean. And not in a super demeaning way that makes you feel small or embarrassed (again, this is my preference), but he takes pleasure in surprising you by suddenly flipping you over and taking you from a different angle. By suddenly and without warning changing the rhythm of his thrusts from soft and slow to deep and punishing. He'd love marking you up - possessive af and making sure everyone and anyone knew that not only were you taken, but you were his. In the same vain, I picture him as a bit of a sadist/masochist but again, not in a super violent or demeaning way. He'd like for the fuck to be a little rough, a little hard; he loves the mixture of pleasure and pain - wants to be bit so hard he bleeds and wouldn't mind doing the same to you if you asked for it. I also think he'd be willing to try a lot of new things in bed, and some of his favourite sex is when you fuck him with a strap [if you're fem or afab].

Together?

I think Rem is still in charge - again, he's confident and assured in the bedroom and everyone trusts his authority and trusts him to keep them safe and satisfied. He would keep Reg from getting too rough or going too hard and would constantly check in to make sure you were still good with everything going on. He'd also be able to satiate any need in Reg regarding his masochistic tendencies. I believe Reg would bottom in the dynamic, but again, I think sometimes depending on the moon and how Rem is feeling mentally - he'd experiment more fluidly with Reg.

I've also mentioned before that I believe Purebloods have a breeding kink and with Remus' animalistic side due to his lycanthropy, that he would too. So I think there would be a lot of using cum as lube, taking turns filling you up with their cum, maybe some snowballing??? jesus christ I'm a sick fuck lmfao. anything to do with cum would send those boys spiralling, "no no babygirl, don't waste it" Rem would coo as he used his fingers to push cum back into your hole. or "whose do you want next, amour? Mine or Rem's?"

And I think you're right, when the time called for it, these boys would be so fucking good at making you feel nothing short of fucking worshipped. The soft, hungry gazes, the lingering and soothing touches, the praises falling from their lips as they gave you everything they got. I'd cry I think; they'd reduce me to tears for sure.

[jayflrt]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 19. attention seeker

welcome to the second act. warnings for this chapter include depictions of alcoholism and family issues

'BEING AN INFLUENCER WAS A REAL JOB THAT REQUIRED A TREMENDOUS AMOUNT OF WORK.'

Yeah, right.

Shin Yuna heard phrases along those lines all the time. Whenever she watched other people's content, a good majority of the influencers would rant about how difficult their life was, or how stressful their workload was when it came to recording and editing.

Sure, it took some effort to edit and upload new content. Yuna allocated several hours a week to do so, but all she had to do was set up a livestream for the cash to start rolling in. Wear something skimpy. Bat her lashes at the camera. Pout a little. Play up the damsel in distress act. It was simply too easy.

princessval***: omg girl pls stop drinking 😭 onlyyuna03: she's so messy i love her luvyuna***: you're back already? i thought you were taking a break onlyyuna03: @luvyuna*** you must be new LOL she always does this

But this—the flood of comments that poisoned her screen—was the curse of putting herself on the internet.

It wasn't like this during her first year of streaming. Back in high school, Yuna's parents were fighting every day, and since she didn't have any friends to talk to, she turned to the internet. She would stay up all night in random Discord servers, chatting with strangers and confiding in them about her family issues.

Naturally, these chats turned into voice calls, which later turned into video calls. Initiated by her, of course. No one else had their cameras on, though; Yuna quickly grew comfortable being in the spotlight, basking in the glow of praise from strangers. Comments like 'you're so gorgeous' and 'you should be a model' made her forget all about her family issues for a split second. Like that, it became like a drug for her.

Yuna, who was starved of attention, relished in the validation she got from online strangers. Strangers who wouldn't even share any personal information about themselves, going by fake names and hiding how old they were.

Soon after, she made her own Discord server, inviting everyone who wanted to see her get in front of her camera and talk about her day. She knew how to play her angles well, acting as if she was everyone's girlfriend while using them to satisfy her need for attention. It was a classic marketing strategy: Yuna knew her asset was her beauty, so she used it to her advantage.

All she had to do was send a picture of herself or talk in a cute voice, and everyone would fawn over her in seconds. In a life where Yuna's own parents neglected her, she found people who cared. Maybe their intentions weren't in the right place, but they were present and ready to listen to whatever she had to say.

She got ambitious, deciding to start live-streaming to a wider audience. Yuna started on Twitch, playing various games like Overwatch and League of Legends. She didn't have to be very good as long as people liked her face and stayed for her reactions.

As she grew a following, she moved to YouTube and TikTok, doubling her follower count in only months. Before, she would be talking to an audience of around 20 people, but now she was racking in thousands as soon as she went live.

Of course, there came drama, too. And Yuna found it exhilarating.

If someone called her out on something, all she had to do was come up with some sob story about how she didn't deserve to hear that, and everyone would come with pitchforks to defend her. She was very calculative in that way, knowing exactly when and how to turn the tide if it wasn't in her favor.

For some reason, that never seemed to work with her parents.

"You're a disappointment," her father spat at her the day she showed him her Yale acceptance letter. She had sparkles in her eyes and a bright smile all day, only for her to feel completely crushed. She couldn't understand why; it was her father's dream for her to get into Yale, after all. "This is the only acceptance letter you've got, huh?"

Yuna hesitated. The competition for all of the Ivy League schools was rough this year; she had been getting rejections left and right, but she thought her family would be satisfied with Yale. After all, it was her father's alma mater.

"Yeah," she answered in a small voice. She looked down at her acrylic-damaged nails, neglected from years of biting the skin until they bled. "I thought you'd be happy with Yale."

"Happy?" Mr. Shin barked out a laugh. "You didn't actually get into Yale on your own, you know that, right?" He scoffed when Yuna gave him a confused look. Then, Mr. Shin slammed his phone against the dinner table, causing his wife and daughter to flinch. "Five hundred thousand. I paid five hundred thousand to get you in. Mr. Nakamura only paid two to get Kazuha in, but I had to pay five. That's how useless you are."

"Sunoo? You know my old boss's son?" he would provoke her for the rest of dinner. "He got in all by himself. You know Hyejin's son—Anton—he got into Yale and Brown on his own, too."

"You need to work hard, Yuna," Mrs. Shin said before stabbing at her salad. "Your dad could only get you in as an undeclared major. You need to get into pre-med on your own."

Tears prickled her eyes, but she stayed silent. Even her college acceptance was a fraud; she had done nothing out of her own hard work.

Except her skyrocketing career as an influencer.

The high of her fame only lasted a short while, though. During the summer before her freshman year of college, Yuna's parents discovered what she had been getting up to on the internet.

Shameful, they called it, as if Yuna was committing a crime.

Yuna's parents were surgeons, and rather good ones at that. They both got their undergraduate degrees at Stanford, and then their doctorates at Harvard. The two of them became neurosurgeons after their residency and board exams, and then transferred to Mercy Health where Mr. Shin became the Chair of Neurological Surgery, which set the bar a little high for Yuna.

She was never spectacular. She was always more interested in makeup and clothes instead of science and medicine. Yuna would've rather worked toward a career as a fashion designer, often dreaming about fashion shows she could design for. She knew she would make it far, too—even Donatella Versace told her backstage during Paris Fashion Week that she had an eye for fashion, and that she could go far.

The few times she visited your house, she remembered meeting your mom, a well-known fashion designer herself, and showing off her sketches. Yuna distinctly recalled her words of approval, and she had to bite her tongue whenever your mom would offer to take Yuna on a tour of her studio, only for her parents to turn down the offer.

Her parents were so adamant about Yuna following their path to becoming a surgeon that they threw away all of her sketchbooks and colored pencils when she showed them her work. Even when she got the opportunity of a lifetime to be taken under Vivienne Westwood's wing, her parents crushed her dreams under their heels.

From a young age, she knew that hard work was only determined by her parents. Her true efforts were simply considered a waste of time.

Naturally, Yuna let out all her emotions when she live-streamed. It just so happened that her parents found out through the families of people who knew her. First, she would be grounded. When that wouldn't work, she would get all of her devices taken away. When she found a loophole around that, she would have to endure her father's rage.

Halfway through her first year at Yale, her parents disowned her.

She was on academic probation after her first semester. While she was trying to file a restraining order against someone who was stalking her (who claimed to be a fan), her grades managed to slip until she failed most of her classes. The worst part was, she had been expecting her parents to worry about the stalking incident, but they only cared about her GPA. Casting Yuna away was just protecting the Shin family's shiny status.

Everything was gone. Yuna was no longer part of the world you and Sunoo lived in. All her connections to the medical field, all her connections to the fashion industry—all out of her grasp. Still, maybe it was her flickering hope to somehow please her parents that kept her on the path to become a doctor. Not that it something she was genuinely interested in, but she knew it was the only way her parents would take her back.

Now she had to keep up her influencer career to support herself financially. There was no way she would be able to pay off tuition, even if Sunoo had generously paid the deposit for her small apartment. She had to keep up with bills, rent, and utilities all at once, and it was all too much for an eighteen-year-old to handle.

She got used to accepting help because of that. You helped foot some of her bills, Sunoo helped with tuition, Anton helped make sure she was eating, and the money she got from streaming and posting videos was enough to cover the rest of her expenses.

Even with an outlet to express her concerns to her fans, though, Yuna was struggling with barely making friends. You, Sunoo, and Anton were the only ones who lent a shoulder and an ear for her to dump all her pain and worries to. But she still had to hold them at arm's length. After all, all of their upper-crust families were in close contact with each other.

And then there was Lee Heeseung.

He was a new face in the socialite scene. No one had heard of him or his family before. Heeseung was probably Yuna's ideal type—handsome, intelligent, popular, and someone who hadn't been sucked into her world yet. Although he was alledgedly close to you and Park Sunghoon, no one else had any idea of what his family did.

Over the years, Yuna was terrified that she had built a reputation among the rich families that were in her circle. She could feel the disdain in their eyes when she was at social events, steering clear of every adult that looked as though they wanted to probe her for information about her college admissions.

Heeseung, however, was like a breath of fresh air. There was no judgment in his eyes when Yuna spoke to him, and that might have been the very moment she fell for him.

He was different. He didn't have any expectations of her nor did he feel uncomfortable when he found out she was a streamer. She liked that he came from a humble background, and he never judged her from where she came from. Even when Yuna confessed that she had been disowned, Heeseung never looked at her with pity in his eyes. He simply told her that he would be there if she ever needed him, and he left it at that.

She tried her best to get close to him, but the closer Yuna got, the more she saw under the surface—the more she realized she was heading toward heartbreak. It was clear as day that Heeseung was deeply in love with you, and it seemed as though he had no intention of considering any other woman. Even Yuna could tell he would give up everything in a heartbeat for your sake.

Yuna did her best to avoid conversations about Heeseung with you. She figured that if they never brought him up, then you wouldn't start to feel differently about him.

To her relief, you started dating Park Sunghoon.

Yuna used Heeseung's vulnerability to her advantage. As much as she liked him, he was a coward when it came to his own feelings; Heeseung could only bring himself to come clean about how he felt for you after you started dating another man. Of course, he was turned down—ignored, even. In your mind, you just wanted to keep up the fantasy of having a close childhood friend to the point where you had Heeseung bottle up everything he felt.

Yuna thought you were cruel back then, but she was even more so.

She knew that Heeseung couldn't do anything about his feelings no matter how much it ate at him, so Yuna pretended she wanted to listen to him go on and on about how miserable he was. It was all because of you, and, for a period of time, Yuna despised you for it.

Months rolled by, and Yuna found herself going over to Heeseung's dorm room nearly every day. They talked about anything and everything, and then the conversation would eventually shift to you. Yuna felt something chip at her heart every time he mentioned your name, but she braved through it all.

"Thanks for coming over," Heeseung murmured, running a hand through his already-messy hair. Yuna could smell the alcohol on his breath when she sat down next to him on the floor. Heeseung laughed. "One-month anniversary. Y/N always told me she found those stupid."

Yuna pressed her lips into a thin line. She remembered walking to class with you last week and hearing you gush about everything you bought Sunghoon for your one-month anniversary as a couple. She thought it was sweet back then, but hearing it come from Heeseung made Yuna feel sick.

"You don't have to thank me," she said, hugging her knees to her chest. "I just wanted to be here for you."

The first time she tried to kiss Heeseung was that night.

The first time Heeseung rejected her was right after he stopped her.

"I can't," he said at the time, drawing away from her. "I'm sorry, it's just—"

"You're not over Y/N," she finished for him with a twinge of bitterness.

He shook his head, saying nothing. Yuna felt a surge of misdirected anger.

Yuna knew from the moment she met you that people like you were the shiny gold coins that everyone wanted to have, and people like her were rusted-over pennies on the sidewalk to be stepped on and forgotten. She was a fool to think that Heeseung would see past that.

"I know that." Her tone was sharp as she got to her feet, and Heeseung followed suit right after. "But I suggest you get over her soon because it's not gonna happen."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said. Y/N would never go out with you. She already turned you down, anyway."

"Is that so?"

When Yuna turned around to look at Heeseung, his expression was like stone. Something ugly was twisting its way around her heart, squeezing out every semblance of affection she ever had for you.

"Yeah," she replied with a simpering smile, "because she's just too nice to choose the guy who broke her friend's heart."

"Broke—?"

"And," she said louder, cutting him off, "Sunghoon doesn't know, does he? Wouldn't he feel really betrayed if he found out?"

Heeseung kept his face impassive, but Yuna could tell he was seething. She cornered him quite well.

She kept that farce up for years. It was easy keeping Heeseung in line when you only had eyes for Sunghoon, and Heeseung was just so easily discouraged by Yuna's words. It was almost like he had no hope that you would take his word over hers, and that sent Yuna on some sort of power trip.

Her relationship with you was strange. Maybe it was at that moment when she realized that she was someone important to you, and that made her feel invincible somehow. She could do anything as long as you were on her side.

She liked drinking. Not because she particularly liked the taste of alcohol, but she loved the feeling of forgetting all her responsibilities. Every rotten memory of her parents would bury itself under the sand for the time being, and all she could feel was adrenaline pumping through her blood.

But she was never exactly in control. It only took a year to slip up in front of her friend group (thankfully when you weren't around), so she begged Karina, Yeonjun, and Giselle to keep quiet about her crush on Heeseung. They weren't even extremely close at the time, but they knew better than to tread on a situation between you and Sunghoon, whose parents were far more influential than theirs.

"It's only gonna cause more problems if she finds out," Yuna told them through choked sobs. "If Y/N finds out, things will never be the same between us, and Sunghoon doesn't even know that Heeseung has feelings for Y/N." As Giselle stroked her hair gently, Yuna said, "I can get over him on my own. Just please keep this from Y/N."

Karina and Yeonjun exchanged nervous looks before they reluctantly agreed. She had always been wary about Karina. Giselle was overly-empathetic to her situation, Yeonjun was a good listener because he thrived off of drama, but Karina had always seemed more skeptical.

And, as Heeseung knew, Yuna always found a way to silence people who she felt she couldn't trust, so she played dumb when she outed Karina on live.

It was a stupid move on her part, to be fair. Yuna deeply regretted it as soon as she realized what she said. Karina iced her out for months, and everyone else was on the colder side—even Sunoo, who had been her close friend for so long. She always felt strangely jealous of Sunoo, who got the approval of her father when she couldn't, but seeing him give her the cold shoulder nearly sent her over the edge.

"I apologized so many times!" she cried to him. Sunoo kept his guard up, but he always heard her out when she needed him. "I just don't know what else to do. I keep fucking up."

Sunoo frowned. "Do you even feel bad about what you did, or do you feel bad because you were caught?"

Yuna didn't respond to his question, but she knew exactly what the answer was. Was she pathetic? Probably.

She ruined everything. She always ruined everything.

Maybe it was just easier that way. Yuna knew that if she tried her best to please everyone, it would still never be enough. Hurting them before she cared too much was just a defense mechanism, as selfish as it sounded. If you chopped down the tree before it grew too tall, it wouldn't hinder the plants under its shade from growing.

The thing was, Yuna received blow after blow all her life without any acts of mercy. She was struck over and over again, and no one delivered the final coup de grâce.

Naturally, Karina came around and forgave her. Another missed blow. It was like Yuna was drunk off the drama itself because if she kept acting out and causing all these problems, then she could keep everyone's attention on her.

And then she wouldn't have to be so alone.

But the cycle went on and on, so when Yuna found herself texting Jay and Sunghoon in her drunken stupor, she hardly considered the consequences when she mentioned the long-kept secret of Heeseung's first love. You trusted her to keep your conversation with Jay about breaking up with Sunghoon to herself, but she violated that as soon as she could, too. She wasn't sure what it was, but whenever she looked in the mirror, all she saw was that she was as bad as her parents.

Yuna was fated to fall into the same destructive cycle over and over again until it stabbed her in the back for good. Until she bled out, though, everything was fair game.

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

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[jakescakeislateforourdate]

hi I am the anon from the other day I was thinking about being in a established relationship w Don and he has a rough day a practise I don’t have your talent at writing lol so do what you please after that ahah

Perfect Form

Don Hume x fem reader

wc: 2,900

tbitb masterlist

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️ : smut, little plot, mdni, minors get out right now, penetration, fingering, cunnilingus, overstimulation, Don denying his own orgasm, aftercare

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Don’s skin glimmers with sweat. His hair is wet and slicked back from his shower not even twenty minutes ago. His pants leaning into his forearms that prop him up over you. His hips roll gently, and he slides in and out of you irritatingly slow. 

“Don.” You whisper, reaching up to touch his cheek. He’s burning, face heavily blushed from the bridge of his nose and down his neck and chest, “need you to go harder.”

His eyes blink open, glancing over you agitated features. They travel down your sternum and stomach and catch on the desperate thrust of your hips to meet him. Instead of helping you out, he places a mean hand on your hip bone and pushes you down, holding you still. His pace does not change, arousal soaking the juncture of your bodies and poisoning the air. You whine at him and try to push against him but the only measured strain it takes to keep you down is the new flex in his bicep. “Just lay down and take what I give you—” 

“C’mon, Hume!”

“Faster, Hume!”

Bobby wouldn’t let him catch a break. Poor Don had been catching crabs all morning, his oar piercing the water at the wrong angle or the wrong time. Something was always wrong with him. 

“Don’t give me that shit, Donny! You can do better!”

“What is that form!”

He just needed to breathe for a second, get his feet under him. He could Joe angrily huffing behind him. Shorty groaning in frustration behind Joe. All Don could feel were their annoyed glares and the sting of their complaints. He was in the stroke seat, he could not afford to be off his game ever and yet there he was, floundering like an idiot. 

“Get it together, you’re slowing this boat down!”

“Pull that again and you’re outta that seat!”

He did not get better by the end of practice and the crew would not get off his case. They complained on the way to the locker room, inside the locker room, in the showers, on their way out of the shell house. Coach Ulbrickson couldn’t even give him the time of day, telling him “If you don’t have yourself sorted out by tomorrow, we’re gonna have problems.” As if Don hadn’t been told off enough. He fumbled through his routine, tuned out to half of what everyone was saying. He tugged on his jacket and then his shoes, not even bothering to tie the laces. 

At this point the crew was more concerned than they were angry. Don was quieter than usual. His face was long and sullen. His gaze distant.

“What’s wrong with Don?”

“What should we do about Don?”

“How can we help Don?”

On and on and he just wanted everyone to shut up and let him fix whatever problem he’s got. He left the locker room, his hair still dripping with the shower water. He found his way to your room without even thinking about, subconsciously knowing what he needed. 

“F-fuck! You feel too good.” His head dips, hair tickling your collarbone. Your hands tangle in the dark strands of hair at the at the back of his head, holding him close. His bare body moves rhythmically. Slow and steady and restrained. He just wants to feel you, prove to himself that he as control. You’d offered to ride him, let him rest his tired body but he flat out refused and shut you up with a kiss. “Just—I just—” As he trails off his pace slows even more. 

“Don! Don, please!”

You can’t handle this leisure fucking, you want him faster and harder. The drag of his cock through your drenched walls is lugging you to a harrowing climax. You feel that knot forming in the pit of your stomach. The broiling heat that electrocutes your veins and shocks your muscles. 

“Faster, faster, faster…”

But Don just doesn’t listen. His thrusts remain soft, and his pace still relaxed. It frustrates you to no end and the need curls painfully inside of you. You arch off the bed, straining against the hand pinning you to the mattress. Your hands latch onto his shoulders. You actually gain some leverage against him which allows you to buck your hips into his oncoming thrust. The excess force creates the most delicious sensation as his thick cock is stuffed further into your soaked pussy. 

“Hn—ngh!” Don’s lashes flutter and his brows draw tight, “Ha’ahfuck! Don’t do that.” The way you squeeze him makes his head spin. Not to mention the fact you’re now grinding back. Don reckons that the only way to keep you still is to drop his full weight onto you. 

That glorious feeling of finally getting that mind-tickling pleasure dies away has Don’s sweaty skin presses fully to yours. Chest to chest, you’re effectively trapped between him and the mattress. “No-no. Why won’t you let me,” his lips cover yours in a callous kiss. The taste of that mint gum he likes to chew spreads over your tongue as his licks into your mouth. Your teeth clack, noses knocking as he rips away your precious breath. Your hands rake down his freckled arms. His own rough hands chase them down and fill in the gaps between your fingers and jam them into the pillows. Aside from your legs, folded by his hips, you’re completely stuck. 

“Will you jus’ listen to me.” His lips abandon yours and he resumes his cold-hearted pace. 

Tears well in your eyes, blurring his facial features and strangling your throat. It softens Don up a little as he watches you begin to cry because it’s how he’s been feeling all day. Finding some sympathy, Don grants you a deeper, harder thrust. He feels your stomach spasm at the newfound sensation. Your insides churn and you toss your head back and moan. Don tucks his knees under you, lifting your pelvis onto his thighs and forcing you to spread your legs wider. You squeeze his hands and sob as he hits deeper. His cock head drags over your g-spot, that rough little patch inside you that makes you twitch, with each of his calculated thrusts. Slick paints your folds, squelching as he pulls out to the tip and then shoves all his length and girth back in. You’re speechless and squirming and totally helpless to his whims. 

“Better?” He plants a kiss on your tear-streaked cheekbone and nuzzles. 

You choke and moan again, but you don’t try to fight him. Instead, your toe curls and you twist. Your orgasm is building faster than he wanted but he figures he can just give you more. He feels the stress of the day melting away as he watches you slip into the mind-numbing pleasure he gives you. He does that. He does it perfectly and controlled and with excellent form. 

“That’s right. You fucking love this, don’t you? Love me and my dick.” 

You wail and shudder as your insides uncoil. He delivers one more measured stroke and you cum hard. Your curl into him as your muscles tense. Clutching onto his hands so tight the knuckles crack. He can’t even move his hips once your legs lock together behind him. The waves of your orgasm wash over you and your walls wring out wetness around him. He wants to cum too, so bad, but he forces his way out of your hold and lets his climax fizzle out before it can shred him.

You whimper at the loss of contact. Your eyes peel open to see him not far away, hovering over you and breathing deeply. His thumb finds your clit and draws circles around the under stimulated bud. “Why...” You can’t catch your breath. “Why did you not—”

“Don’t want this to be over just yet.” 

Don scoops you up and moves you towards the top of the bed. Your back rests against the headboard, a pillow jammed under your hips. He props your legs open and plants a few kisses on your sternum and ribcage before trailing down your belly. Your spasming, dripping core is fully exposed to him and he ravishes you with a ravenous tongue. 

The velvety muscle curls and licks around your clit. It moves fluidly through your folds and prods your clenching entrance. “Hnn, Don!” You’re sensitive and lightheaded and now he’s giving you more than you bargained for. 

He mouths at your core for a while, making an even bigger mess of you. Your fingers tug at his hair and grab at his shoulders but he cannot be coaxed away. His lips, bruised from your rough kiss, suck on your clit and drive you insane. He braces his hands on your thighs and dips his tongue into your hole. You shiver and grind against his mouth as he tongue-fucks your sensitive core. Each brush of his tongue along your walls makes your toes curl and your chest heave. You didn’t get a chance to really recover from the last orgasm he gave you and he’s already steadily working you towards another. 

His thumbs find the petal-soft labia and spreads your folds. You bawl. His tongue flattens out and draws over your exposed parts. Don is relentless in this, his coarse tastebuds relishing the sweetness at oozes out of your cunt. He licks from your clit to your hole, circles the tip just around the inside, then licks back to your clit. Don suckles at the bundle until your thighs shake before he allows his teeth to graze the swell of nerves. Slick and saliva drip down his chin even as he slurps down what he can. 

You chant his name, “Don. Don. Don—” desperate and horny.

His hand leaves your clammy thigh, a rough fingertip pressing on the edge of your hole. His mouth works your clit, a faint slurping filling the breaths between your noises. One long finger pushes in. Then a second. Two rugged digits stroke your pussy and make you squirm. “Fuck Don, fucking—hell!” He can barely hear you cursing he’s so immersed. When you’re not looking at him buried between your thighs or studying the back of your eyelids, you’re watching his hips hump the comforter and sheets. 

Freckles like constellations dot his sinuous back. The pointed ridge of his spine divides the expanse of muscle. He’s tense. Still bothered by whatever has gotten into him today. He digs his fingers into that sore spongy g-spot and you writhe. Pleasure radiates from your overwhelmed core. The next high approaches fast as an avalanche. He works a third finger into you and it’s over. You go completely rigid as you cum again, gushing around his fingers. 

“That’s it, makin’ such a mess.” Don smirks, lips shining with cum.

You think he’s finished when his mouth leaves your cunt and lunges into a sloppy kiss, but then his fingers drag through your folds and pinch your clit. You jolt and keen, still fighting through the aftershocks of the last orgasm, and now he’s belligerently overstimulating that sensitive bud. You can’t get a word in with his tongue down your throat either, all you can do his clutch at him and whimper.

Once your lungs are exhausted of air, his mouth pops off your lips and he wedges himself between your thighs. “Stop trying to close your legs.” 

“Please—it’s so—f-fuck-ing—I can’t!”

“You can take it.”

His fingers rub fast, slicked up by your cum. He catches your clit between his digits and pinches again; it’s just enough pressure to border on pain. He bullies you against the headboard and steals your words away again. You try to kiss him back only to pant into his grin as you begin to wheeze. You don’t know what to do with your hands. Your blood is boiling, body spasming, your mind blank. Your third orgasm hits just as hard as the first two, making you cry out. He eases you down and pulls you back down the bed. He falls into place behind you and lifts one of your tired legs.

“Don, I can’t.”

“Give me one more, one more.” He promises, arm wrapping protectively around you. Your body feels like lead as the arm curled around you props your leg up. The other disappears and then promptly reappears with his cock pinched between his fingers. He pushes the tip through your folds and collects your slick. He’s already drenched in precum, a wet spot on the sheets from where he was grinding.  “Can you do that for me?” He rests the tip against your weeping hole, waiting for you to reply. “Need you to talk to me, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, I—yes,”

He nudges the tip in and gently works his way back in. He’s long and thick and well aware that he’s a lot to take whether or not he was just inside you minutes ago. But he’s going too slow, that same stupid pace that drove you nuts earlier. 

“Not again, Don, please not a-again!” Fat tears drop across the bridge of your nose as you slump against him.

Don’s free hand soothes you, “Shh, don’t worry, just don’t want to hurt you.” Upon your distressed whines he begins to fuck, hard and fast. He rests his cheek on your temple and rolls his hips as fast as he can while still pushing deep. You go alarmingly silent, and gun grabs ahold of your chin. “Hey, hey, you okay?” 

“Hnnn!” 

You clench and his pattern falters, he’s painfully hard and hungry for release but you must cum first. You raise up on one elbow; Don follows and slips his arm through the newly formed crevice. His fingers find the pert pink but that is your nipple and trace around it. He flicks it back and forth and eventually pinches it between his index and thumb. A drawn-out cry leaves your drooling lips. Don’s free hand finds lifted knee and he hoists it even higher and rolls his hips harder. 

“Oh—” your head falls back, and Don pecks your temple. “I-hah-have to…gonna cum.”

“Yeah?”

Don fucks you so hard the bed creaks and mattress shifts, his skin slaps against yours and leaves behind a sharp sting. His leftover frustration bubbles up and takes over. He’s absolutely savage in giving you your last climax. Broken moans tumble out of his lips as your pussy constricts around him. You suck up empty breaths and Don knows you’re close. He drapes your suspended leg over his hip and reaches for your clit. He musters up enough coordination to find his way through the mess and stroke the aggravated organ. He feels where his cock has stretched you and lets out the most guttural groan as he pinches his throbbing cock between his fingers. 

Black spots obscure your vision as you cum. You thrash and collapse into him, “I got you. I got you. I’m right here.” He whispers into your ear as you cream around him. He takes it for as long as he can withstand, wanting to help you ride out your high, but when the dam bursts he has to pull out and roll onto his back. He strokes himself from balls to tip once, twice, before his insides are racked with his delayed orgasm, and he spills creamy white semen all over his stomach. He pulls you close, rubbing your tummy with the hand still tucked under you. 

“You alright?” He partially sits up and brushes back your hair. Sweat has beaded on your forehead and your eyes have shut tight. He jostles your shoulder until you nod. “Good, let me clean you up.” 

He climbs off the mattress and crosses the room on his shaky legs. He draws a warm bath, adding some bubbles to it before scooping you up setting you in the tub. “Are you okay, Donny?” Your eyes open just a hair and kiss his hand. The blisters and callouses hurt your heart. 

“I am now.” He returns the kiss to your nose before turning to analyze the state of your room. The mattress is damn near falling off the bedframe and the sheets have somehow been tugged from the corner. He lugs the mattress back onto the frame and replaces the sheets. He scrubs his cum off his belly then he’s climbing into the bath with you. The hot water eases the soreness in his whole body. 

You soak together, billing and cooing about the day. Don lets it slip about practice and you snort. “That’s what this has been about?” 

“Hey, now,” A smile plays at his lips as you tease.

You swat him, “Don’t even play innocent. Not after what you just did.” 

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I’m only teasing, Donny, I’m good.”

“Sure?”

“Yes, you worry wart.” You kiss his tender lips. He cleans you with soap and and washes your hair, fingers massaging your scalp. For a while you rest your head on his chest. Until your eyelids become heavy and you’re in danger of falling asleep in the bathtub. Don helps you out of the tub and into some pjs before he’s ushering you into bed. “You should stay.”

“You want me to?”

“You ask too many questions, Don, get in.” He slips in and nestles himself against you. He’s still bare, knowing he’ll get too hot in his sleep and also knowing what he’ll be like in the morning. The only reason her got you dressed was for the soul purpose and privilege of undressing you later. But that’s for the morning and for now he just wants to cuddle up and sleep off a long day. 

...

Dear reader,

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this fic please check out my other works on my masterlist. Requests are open if you want to ask . Have a nice day.

-the author

[bunniehunn]

Happy birthday to me!!

Well, happy EARLY birthday! I’m turning 16 on the 13th of November, and to celebrate that, I’m doing a DTIYS!!!!!! Yuubeni is just perpetually 17 lol. This is my first time doing something like this so… 🥲

I just want to say, I’m super grateful to all the amazing people in the twst community and Tumblr who have made my short time here so amazing since the start! I’m forever indebted to yall for being so kind and welcoming. I’m so happy I can celebrate my birthday this year with you guys!!!!!!!!! Love yall <33

More info about the event and some context from Yuubeni (my yuusona) under the cut!

🦋: A surprise party just for me?!

🦋: I got a mysterious text to, quote, “wear something nice and come over to the botanical gardens” it totally freaked me out, the contact wasn’t even named.

🦋: I’m glad I bought this dress a while ago. I saw it while I was off campus one time and HAD to buy it. It was pretty expensive though, and I did have to buy some cheaper dinners to be able to feed Grim, though. Heh, consequences…

🦋: I screamed way too loud when everyone surprised me. I think I startled a lot of people... I could see Idia’s soul practically jump out of his body!

🦋: You know, I don’t really like birthday parties. I don’t like all the attention being on me, it gets me all stressed out. I always dreaded birthdays back in my own world but, here… I guess it’s not so bad with all my friends.

🦋: W-what? I-I’m not crying, this cake is just… r-really… good…

★彡

Now for info!

So, you all know the gist of a DTIYS. As long as you keep the outfit Yuubeni’s in, and the setting (the NRC botanical gardens), you can go crazy with poses, camera angles, throw in canon or oc characters if you like! You can send birthday wishes or oc interactions, fics if you want, whatever media, but only your main DTIYS art piece will count.

There will be three winners, first place will get a fully colored piece, second place a shaded single color sketch, and third just a silly unshaded doodle. My art is available everywhere on my page if you want to take a look. All three winners are two characters max. I’ll do oc + canon, canon + canon, and oc + oc (ships included) as long as it’s all twst related.

Entries will be open from November 1st to November 16th, so you’ve got a while! After that, I’ll be working on the pieces, but my schedule isn’t rigid.

RULES.

NO NSFW. Both me and Yuubeni are minors.

No suggestive content, no weird remarks. Yuubeni’s personality and looks are based off of me, and I really would prefer if no one made any weird comments.

No romantic material regarding Yuubeni in the entries.

Adults are allowed to participate.

For the winners, I won’t draw nsfw, suggestive or gory content. Keep it pg, please.

Everyone is allowed to participate, mutuals and followers alike.

Tag me when you submit your entry! —> @bunniehunn and use the tag #BotanicalBday

Reblogs are STRONGLY encouraged! I want this to reach a lot of people! <3

Here’s a (messy) sketch of her full outfit!

HI MOOTS! @cheerleaderman @gimmeurmoneyagh @theolivetree123 @skibidibabygirl

@beneathsakurashade @moonyasnow @fell-e @screamintoad @amatsuchan-eiliniel

@babyghoul138 @h0neybane @boopshoops @the-rini-rush

@skriblee-ksk @angelwishezz @amai-sakura-chan @mirioho @buttholesparkles

@taruruchi @scint1llat3

/NF

tell me if you don’t want to be tagged 😊

[matan4il]

911 ep 701 first watch reactions

(I don't think I have the energy to write proper Buddie meta, so here's me randomly squealing instead...)

LMAO In case you were wondering whether s7 of 911 will be subtle about their gratitude/debt to ABC for saving the show, the answer is a resounding no.

Also, I have lost a lot of respect for Frank as a shrink, but gained a lot of love for him as a sass king. "Did she win!?" The murderous look Athena gave him was priceless. I love her, too. She doesn't even need words to rule.

Man, nooooo. Don't give me a mutual "I love you" between Bobby and Athena like that.

"Go ahead and cut the green wire." Everyone and their sister: "Green? You said Red."

9-1-1 is the superior comedy they slipped into our drink, while we were here for our weekly action, suspense, drama and familial love.

Buck broke off with Natalia, and the show really did it like that. XD Every single person who rolled their eyes at this pairing during s6, we were all justified, but wow. The show really is the only forum to respect the pair even less than fandom does. And of course we find out about it in the middle of a scene built around Eddie being half naked, Buck watching him, with the camera specifically turning so we can discover Buck was initially covered by Eddie's body, and the angle change reveals him, when the whole thing wraps up with Eddie welcoming Buck back to the land of the living... Yeah, wonder what made Buck feel alive again. Don't know. 'Tis a mystery. We were given zero clues...

"I want the honeymoon life." *cries* Chimney is just such a good, good man. And okay, expecting your whole life to be a honeymoon's a bit unrealistic, but Madney are living together and they have a child. They know this. Chim knows this, but he still wants to go for it. Aim for the moon, you'll at least land among the stars, right?

Bobby baffled by Athena's reaction to Norman and Lola is hilarious.

I like how Chim has a great idea, but it's still obvious that it's gonna go wrong, because he can't help going overboard with it...

OMG, that scene with Eddie recounting to Buck what Christopher's date was like... If I were to write my Buddie meta, I would serve a three course meal just from that. I mean, the fact that watching Chris hanging out with a girl he likes, makes Eddie compare it to "hanging out with his guy friends" (when there's no lack of interest in this girl... in fact, it turns out that if anything, Christopher's problem is the opposite of a lack of interest) is so telling. There's a reason why that's where Eddie's mind went.

But then also... Eddie's trust in Buck got to me, the way he went to his best friend (not his own gf) for help with Chris. But that was still played with half a smile. But then Buck sort of disses himself jokingly, and Eddie won't have it. "You didn't end up like you." He sees how Buck worked on being a better person, even when Eddie wasn't there for the worst of it, and he appreciates it, and won't let Buck forget it. Meeeep. I love them.

Oh Chim. I was giving you so much credit, and then you went and bought that outdoors jacuzzi. lol Still love him. That's what Maddie's reminding herself of right now, too. ;p

Poor Hen, she was great in this ep, but none of it was really about her, she was comic relief, both with Chim and with the red wire. Then again, she was amazing in this, like she always is with everything.

Eddie and Buck were both so good with Chris this ep, MY HEART. Buck with getting him to talk about what's really bothering him, and Eddie with realizing exactly what his son needs, and how to give it to him. They completed each other. Neither one would be helping Chris without the other one. Tell me again how they're not soulmates?

In conclusion, I love Bobby saying, "Let's go prove one of us wrong," when they're both right. Something WAS going on with Norman and Lola, AND Athena was using them to avoid him.

Argh. That scene of the ship and its passengers being hijacked was rough to watch. </3 I'll still be here to watch the conclusion of this. That's the power of 9-1-1 for you.

It def felt like a great kick to the new season. We had lots of comedy and fun, some great tension, some emotional moments (especially with Christopher), but all in all, it's still clear that the whole thing's a build up to next week. Are you excited?

[uchihaharlot]

Hey there! Love your work and if you're still doing requests, I've got one for ya: a hot, sexy threesome between a female reader, Itachi (loooove him) and Shisui. I'm imagining a competition angle where they've both been pining after the same girl for a while and she likes them both too, but can't choose (and I mean, who could, right? Lol). Eventually, someone (probably Shisui based on my own interpretations of his personality) decides that choosing sucks and sharing is caring, leading to super hot sex 🔥

Ooooo deary,

You speak right to my soul. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fantasized being the center of an Uchiha pissing contest. I’ve always felt that love is kind; love is free and love is patient.I’m hikjackjng your request a bit, I’ve had a draft for several months. There is no real competition here, but extremely hot solicited sex and yes. You are correct, Shisui is one hundred percent the purveyor of pleasure.

It will be soo worth it though; there is a second part to this — written by @shisuis-left-nipple, my draft is also beta’d by her as well — thank you my little Shisui harlot. I dream nothing more of being an Uchiha sandwich on a daily basis.

I’ll forefront this by saying there is mentioning of Shiita. Nothing overtly intimate between the two, but it’s undeniably there and at the back burner. Though you are the main focus of this event, I do apologize to the people who haven’t eaten the forbidden fruit.

NSFW; all out Uchiha fuckfest; overstimulation; multiple climaxes; fucked stupid; mild Shiita.

Yea I thought about this for a while. How did you even get in this situation? Probably met at the spring festival and all.

Since, in my au head canon, they foiled the coup. Shisui lives, Itachi rules the coop. Feel free to ask me about exactly what happened — there is so, so much in my one brain cell.

Itachi is now clan leader these days. Shisui is his right-hand man. They've grown out of that phase of just the two of them. I know it's not everyone's cup, but they definitely fucked and now that they're adults and have clan responsibilities, growing out of that phase.… though sometimes they share a girl here or there.

So, here you are at the festival. Looking so gorgeous it's damn near criminal. The spring festival is held in the Uchiha district this year — Shisui called it reclamation day. As part of the planning committee sent by the Godaime, you get to enjoy all the hard work you put into decorating their little corner of the world and Shisui is grateful.

I mean really grateful, his cock thanks you too. Your guys’ budding romance starts out slow.… lol, ya whatever that means in Shisui’s head.

Shisui is the extrovert while Itachi is still a bit shy and reserved. (This might get confusing because Izumi obviously hadn't died, but let's just say well.... I think most of the Uchiha believe in free love. At least the younger progressive ones. It keeps the curse of hatred at bay and sex is free. Love is kind).

Who in their right mind wasn't fucking one another in that gorgeous clan of men?

Everyone was.

This event really turned out, ‘the Uchiha are eternally indebted to you for your hard work' says Shisui. He's the charmer — the concierge of bedroom antics. The proprietor for drawing the women into the sheets.

It doesn't take Shisui long to make fucking shit out of you a habit, upheaving your feels and all. Just casually, no big deal. Starts asking questions after a hot session, of course he came to you during lunch. When he has a craving, the man is insatiable. You mention a few taboo things, maybe binding, nothing too extravagant or out of the ordinary. But he is calculating — ever the entrepreneur, ‘how can I give this girl the most beautiful experience of her life?’ He thinks.

Shisui drops the threesome paper bomb in your lap and you’re like — ‘uhhh….yea, sure. Why not but, with…who?’

‘Well Itachi, of course.’ Just so damn casual like it was a regular Tuesday and he hadn’t spent the last half hour rearranging your guts.

Cue blank screen syndrome, ‘what?’ As if waiting for the room to read itself, ‘is this….something you guys do….regularly?’

‘Yea, sometimes. Just so happened to tell him about this woman who has me in a chokehold. Stealing my soul and that her beauty makes the sun ashamed to shine.’ That sort of Casanova type shit, sick as cancer. Shisui was undoubtedly winning this match.

It serves your desire on a silver kunai. The wet mixture the two of you had created rehydrates and Shisui takes the opportunity to fuck you again, slower — deeper. Asking if you’re interested mid stroke, whispering filth in your ear as you start to come undone. Sexual coercion at its finest. You’re so aroused at the thought of this situation you come hard when he mentions some quip about being a double stuffed bento box.

The good, good Itachi is so prim and proper. He hosts a mini dinner, and you’re sort of sweating, uncertainty beckons you. What the hell is going on here…..it’s mildly unsettling at first, but Itachi refuses to fuck a woman he doesn’t know a little bit about. You all three enjoy Itachi’s over the top meal and the conversation flows. The awkwardness melts away and it isn’t long before Shisui takes off leaving you two alone.

Itachi takes you out to sit on the enagwa for tea. He is such a gentleman to consider you this way. While Shisui preps their sanctum, Itachi’s lips make his first impression, and boy it's hot. Not that Shisui wasn’t the connoisseur of making out himself, but Itachi’s kiss is gentle — light. Soft as petals that feather and cradle yours, making you embarrassingly breathless almost immediately. He wants to make sure you're comfortable with this whole situation and Shisui always finds his chivalry adorable, but you can't talk Itachi out of it. He has to do this. It sets the mood and also lowers any preemptive warnings that you might have, since this is already a new thing for you, there won't be any silly toys. Just pure unadulterated pleasure and free love. Once you spend about a half hour lip locked with Itachi, he's going to lead you around the house. Takes you to a room on the back side that’s dimly lit. Starts kissing you in the room behind closed doors when a small gust of wind comes at your back — Shisui. Always one to make an appearance.

Another set of strong hands are at your back. While one wraps around you from the front, the other from the back. Your senses are already in overdrive, Shisui is the impatient one while Itachi likes to draw things out. Shisui hungrily kisses down your neck and Itachi is just swallowing every soft sigh from your lips. Shisui's hands lift at your shirt, and you thought this through. Some cute lacy see through bra that catches Itachi off guard. Has his sights zeroing in, seemingly devouring you through the material.

Shisui wants the bra off, but Itachi has to remind him who the boss is — using that big ‘fuck you’ energy out of nowhere. Shisui just rolls his eyes, a small glint of the sharingan in an exaggerated attempt to look annoyed but not really — fine, so be it. Itachi can have his portion of you but, either way, a candle can burn from both ends if it's double wicked and there is so much of you to explore, top to bottom.

Shisui kisses down your back as it arches, his hands resting on either hip when he crouches. Itachi is nipping and rolling your nipples through the lacy bra. He absolutely loves the temptation of it and maybe even stole a glance through red spun pearls for later review — yep just know that they are going to be recording this for their own personal collection. (Let's touch on the sharingan for a second, I truly believe that it's emotionally charged. If something feels good, it's out in the open. Big bad and red, like an eye erection or some shit lol. Spinning wildly absorbing collective imagery to database — consider it similar to how pupils dilate when it sees something it likes).

Shisui's already got your pants down. He's so hard, Itachi's exceedingly hard too but he takes forever, so Shisui just starts undressing him too because what are friends for? Everyone needs a little help from their friends. You couldn't be really sure, but you’re positive that Shisui may or may not have kissed the tip of Itachi's cock and licked the excitement off, but all you really could hear was his laugh.

Your pants are shucked and tossed aside, Shisui's got you lifting each leg over his shoulder, he's buzzing and wants to start making you moan. Itachi is just following along for now as long as Shisui doesn’t touch his portion of you. Suddenly, you’re slightly lifted up. Looking down you see Shisui sitting on the ground, his arms holding you up. That shit eating grin filling his face as he peers up at you. Then Shisui’s face at your sex inhaling and exhaling hot and breathy, you sit on his shoulders while he holds you at your lower back. Itachi laughs at the audacity of that man, but he knows how insatiable Shisui is. He wants you dripping down his face, chest and eventually his cock.

Itachi finally removes your bra. The sensations are tantalizing — you got one that's slow and sweet and the other that's too fast for his own good. Shunshin no Shisui never could live life in the slow lane. So just like his namesake you're already one and now a second orgasm deep on his mouth. Your hands, well you didn't know what to do with them. ltachi guided one to his shoulder and the other to rake in Shisui's hair, which instantaneously made Shisui groan on your sopping mound, his nose rubbing in the cleft of your heat and his tongue rolling over that deliriously sensitive patch of nerve within your sweet seam. Prodding you, drinking you in and leaving you full-mouthed whimpering.

Once you've been properly worked in, Shisui stands, leaving you at his mercy high in the air. You yelp and cling to him, so this was the actual strength of a renowned shinobi. He lays you so gentle and sweet like on the bed. And yes this time, you saw what you saw, Itachi languidly strokes Shisui's cock before your eyes and you're like what in tarnation — but it was hot because Shisui bit his lip and looked at you like James Dean with big puppy dog reds. They would tease one another here and there and it would absolutely fan the flame between your legs.

Shisui goes over the many ways this could go down and you're like...

‘I'm just here for the ride. Two against one, does it really matter what I want?’ And they both laugh; how adorable because yea, you're right. They're doing it the way they want and Shisui grabs a few things. Lube, leg spacers etc. but you're like ‘uuhhh leg spacers??’ That's when you end up on top of him turned around, your back to his chest and your legs hung over his knees.

All for your consideration and comfort, he's not one to take liberties, not yet. You’re spread open like the world's finest charcuterie board. Itachi's eyes populate and spin red. 'Gorgeous.’ Cause you are, not a damn thing wrong with you, especially from this perspective.

Shisui's hot breath is at your neck, kissing you all over. Not an inch of skin that his lips could reach is untouched. Neck, ears, shoulders — nipping the space between your shoulder blades. Really a pleasure king for you.

Itachi, this man, may not look like much to the naked eye, but he's that and more. So much more, kneels between your legs and just devours you. Like a fucking goddamn goddess, his lips make praise to your sopping cunt. That damned nose, rubbing it all up in your clit while his tongue is gently teasing your slick. You've never had someone be so attentive to you, and while you're distracted in pre orgasm build up, Shisui is administering a severe amount of lube to Itachi's hand. A grand distraction to addle your mind a bit more.

You've already left your consciousness in the sixth dimension and your soul in the 9th circle to hell. What's something a little deeper? As you climax for maybe the sixth time now this evening, Itachi's slim fingers prod at your uncharted asshole. Oh dear. You've not ever experienced ass play. This is unfortunate but also exciting. You moan treasonously and can *feel* Shisui smirking as he kisses and nips at your back. One of his hands splayed across your stomach. Pressing as you climax hard. Itachi wasn't rough, but he wasn't sincere about knocking on the back door.

‘My apologies' Itachi says when you chirp a little bit over it. Gentlemanly as he is, he's ravenous now. And you can't really be sure, but there is more squelches and a brief motion outside your visual perception.

Shisui says some shit like, ‘breathe for me baby’ through bated breath and next thing you know. Itachi's lubed up Shisui's lovely fat cock and is attempting to breach your second entrance. Oh, mama Kaguya! You were a bit selfish when it came to relinquishing control and Shisui offers you some advice, 'look at me gorgeous.'

It’s in this moment you fully understood what Shisui meant about being a double stuffed bento box, he's only sunk about four inches of his cock in your ass and it's not entirely unpleasant, but new. Your neck is craned in a searing kiss with Shisui, him rocking his hips gently until you're comfortable. Itachi toying with your clit to acquiesce the intrusion. Only when Itachi’s mouth sucks on your bud does it then feel really good.

The intake of air to your lungs as an entirely different type of roaring climax, in a whole new group of muscles, doesn't seem to fill you with enough air to accommodate the salacious inconsolable loud moan that escapes your lips. Shisui gently pioneering slow purposed full-length thrusts into a hole that was once too tight for two fingers.

After that, all he has to do is sit pretty. Itachi takes over after you have a few more orgasms, like what, 9 or 10 now total? If you tried to count, just give up. You're done physically, mentally and emotionally at this point. You've left your soul in their vision for it to never be returned. Completely dominated and owned.

But they're Uchiha. They know the effect they have on people. Itachi puts his hair up a little tighter in a bun. Such a cutie, he slowly strokes himself watching as Shisui has his round. Then the room goes still, all you can hear is Shisui's heavy breathing in your ear, as he’s had to hold back quite a bit. You're so taut around him, he almost busted a nut and unfortunately for him, the second Itachi stretches your weeping and already swelling cunt, Shisui does cum — poor bastard. But his best friend makes sure to angle his slow strokes downwards so that way he gets a little bit of friction and as a double whammy the mere feeling of Shisui pulsating and coming inside of you is like an intermittent vibrator, so you climax, full force. Resting your head on Shisui’s shoulder, he kisses your cheek as your eyes roll shut, and you babble like a cute idiot.

So here you are, hot sweaty and now gagged on Shisui’s fingers as he shoves them in your mouth. Shisui didn't necessarily go soft, the overstimulation of you pulsing and continually on edge keeps a lovely semi at his disposal. Itachi's got your arms wrapped up and set behind Shisui's head, his lips tease at your nipples. He is the slow and steady sensual man. You moan, Shisui moans. Everyone is moaning, it's a cacophony of gasps and sighs. Itachi's is just enjoying being the one in charge of you both, then Shisui starts hitting you with some katon heated dirty talk.

'Such a good girl.’

‘You're choking my cock so well.’

'Another one already?'

Just hot talk and even a bit of teasing. Since he's like buckled down for the ride now, he just gets to experience all the pleasure without much work, but he does make sure to suck at your neck, leaving a few marks on your back too. He's considering that maybe you're the girl for him. With his best friend's approval of course, this is just like a clan initiation at this point. Itachi would let you marry Shisui if he really hard pressed him enough, but Shisui feels deeply, this type of connection only comes once in a life and out of the myriad of females they've shared (which isn't many to be honest) you're this Pandora's box that has so many different things about you he already loves.

Someone is falling hard.

Itachi is of course enthralled with your breasts, they're perky, beautiful and each nipple is gently switched between his lips, pert and sensitive. Though he would turn up the heat and use a little bit of that Uchiha fire to warm them up, only to change the sensation and make you writhe. Slowly pumping himself into you, calls you ‘princess,��� of all things. So old school, Itachi started out quiet but when Shisui is kissing one side of your neck, Itachi is sucking and nipping at the other. All timed of course; right as you orgasm again. Always some sort of over stimulation going on and — hey wait a minute! When did Shisui start playing with your clit? You don't know and don't care because this next orgasm was the most intense yet.

And you squirted all over Itachi's cock, raining down on Shisui's, he couldn't help but start to move his hips a little. The contrasting thrusts sending you even further spiraling.

'Are you ok y/n?' A playful jab at your wavering consciousness by Shisui in a deep raspy whisper. You're catatonic.

An Uchiha flesh-light now. Thank the gods you're on the pill. Just the smell of their musk, power of the gods and that smokey katon heat would one hundred percent have you ending up pregnant and Itachi has big people issues right now, he can't have a kid just yet. You might even just become the wife to both of them. Though Shisui is greedy, possessive with what's his. Itachi has Izumi, but that doesn't mean you couldn’t take part in their secret swingers group.

Here you lie between them, filled up tight to the brim. Shisui has definitely cum at minimum three times, his seed seeping out your little bottom hole. Itachi isn't really that much into multiple, he enjoys perpetually edging the hell out of himself and right when he is about to cum, he slips out. Let's Shisui pound you a few good times and thank gods you have a clean booty hole. Itachi slips him out of his new claimed territory and by gods, there is that lovely Shisui cock filling your warm worn-out cunt. So thick and creamy with his seed, just slips into your tight seam. Slowly thrusting into you, he peppers kisses down your left cheek as Itachi takes a breather. Whispering how much you mean to him, so precious and his. Somewhere down the blurred vision to keep your eyes focused, Shisui is comfortably situated back as your butt plug. Time has escaped you, it all just cascades quickly.

Itachi lifts both your legs under Shisui’s *arms*, oof. Spreading you further, nearly to your ears. Folded like a lawn chair, a personal favorite to both. Shisui locks his hands over your sternum and holy hell this man is strong. You moan when Itachi slips back into your tired cunt. You're still so snug and wet though, the two of them each swing their hips in tandem; you weren't expecting this. All that heavy breathing, encouragement from Shisui and maybe a few a 'good girl’ from Itachi here or there. You're stretched to the limit. Can feel their cocks rubbing against one another through that thin layer of skin that separates your two channels.

Shisui's the first one to bust… again, lucky guy. He's had about five maybe? And Itachi reams his slender hand around your neck. You're so far spent; incapable of an orgasm, beyond belief overstimulated to the point that you're not sure if it's pleasant or not anymore. But it's hot, Shisui biting your shoulder, Itachi's grip tightens a little. He's a bit perturbed you've reached your limit before he could cum, so yea.

Tsukuyomi induced orgasm for you, honey.

Red spun pearls lull and bend your subconscious, all he says in the echo chamber is 'cum.’ Much to your surprise, you do, several times more. All over him as he deposits the hottest load of baby gravy into your cunt, making sure to fuck it in you. Tapping it against your cervix like it was some sort of keg tap. Just knock knock knock genetic coding at your womb. But he apologizes for getting so aggressive once he drops that mild soporific genjutsu and Shisui is trying to not snicker at your disheveled face.

Now honey, you've had a rough night. Let's talk some after care. Lots more kissing, worshipping your amazing body for all the shit it's just been through. Wrapped up like a cocoon and carried off into the main portion of the house.

What do you want? Tea? A movie? A bath?

You can bathe with both of them. Or alone. Whoever you choose. They are definitely going to make sure you are treated with the utmost care and adoration the Uchiha have to offer.

Do you need your leg muscles rubbed? They did go numb at some point. So, you have your bath, Shisui is there while Itachi makes tea. Shisui is such a gentleman though, washing your back. Asking if you want to wash your special areas yourself, he feels like maybe they just violated you, but you laugh out loud at and kiss him softly. 'I got exactly what I asked for.’

And he smiles the full length of his mouth. Such a handsome guy, the bath is rather quick. Itachi's readied the tea, and you can have your own room for the night, but like... ‘what if we all just cuddled and slept in the same bed.' You speak.

‘Hot damn, yes that too,’ Shisui quips. You're like a loaded canon and he is absolutely pulling the trigger finger on that.

Itachi nods and smiles, ‘ok.’

So, you have your tea, maybe even watch a movie but girl you are dead on your ass. You pass out within the first twenty minutes, Shisui finishes your tea and carries you to bed. Gently stationed between them, you just sleep so peacefully and serene.

Yep, and then when the morning comes, it's breakfast time.

[pedgito]

i just saw your post about glasses!eddie munson and whenever you have the time, would you be able to write a cute series of reader finding out about his glasses ITS JUST ADORABLE

author’s note: this was meant to post sooner than now but here it is lol, i finished this pretty quick but got sidetracked. glasses!eddie has invaded my brain and it’s never leaving.

cw: sfw, glasses!eddie, eddie’s not so subtle flirting, acquaintances to friends, once again another fic where everyone bullies eddie (give this man a break), if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.5k

“Do you wanna switch seats with me?” Your voice is soft, leaning back toward Eddie, whose eyes are nearly closed from how hard he’s focusing on the board, blindly scribbling something down on the paper. He’s lost on where the voice comes from until you’re in focus, looking back at him with a smile.

Eddie wasn’t a friend, but he wasn’t an enemy either. He was the boy who got picked on relentlessly and as much as you wanted to help, you weren’t sure it would change anything. Plus, he didn’t seem that bothered by it—or he was just really good at faking like he wasn’t.

“Oh,” Eddie replies, still confused, “I’ll be fine—Mr. Donahue’s handwriting is always shit, I can barely understand it.”

It wasn’t a total lie, but it was still legible.

“Munson!” The teacher's voice rings from the front of the classroom, “let's stop trying to distract other classmates and focus on our own work, okay?”

And if it wasn’t the condescension in his tone that pissed you off, it was the way he so quickly blamed Eddie for the interaction. He shrinks slightly, sending you an apologetic look.

It happens a few more times that week, catching Eddie glancing at the board as if it’s nearly impossible to see—and maybe he was telling the truth, but it’s also obvious that Donahue hates Eddie for no other apparent reason than just because he thinks he’s up to no good, which isn’t fair to Eddie.

You show up early to class the following week, bag resting in the chair of the desk beside you—Eddie’s usual seat, waiting. He’s always bordering on being late, making it to class as the bell rings, looking more frazzled than the others.

You weren’t sure what he got up to between classes, but he definitely seemed overwhelmed.

“This seat taken?” He asks with a smug smirk, pointing at your backpack. You smile slightly, reaching for it.

“Sorry—I just wanted to make sure I could sit beside you.” You tell him honestly. It throws Eddie off, his eyebrows furrowing together slightly before relaxing, eyes roaming over you curiously. “You said you can’t understand his handwriting, I was gonna let you copy my notes.”

“Can I copy your work too?” Eddie asks jokingly, but you can tell he means it. “I’m barely scraping by with a D in this class.”

You snort out a quiet laugh. “Let’s worry about the notes first.”

Eddie spends most of the class still struggling, forehead creased up as he sifts through your notes, writing things down sparingly. It’s almost like he’s trying not to be mean, focusing a little too hard on one word every now and then as he looks over, your papers perched on the corner of the desk.

“If my writing is horrible you can tell me,” You say, which makes Eddie chuckle, “seriously, I won’t be offended.”

“It’s not that,” He assures you, “it’s just—the angle, it’s a little hard to read them—“

“Oh, well,” You grab the papers in a bunch, extending them toward him, “here, just take them.”

Eddie ignored you, his fingers wrapping around the leg of your desk to pull it flush against his—it’s quick enough that it doesn’t make much noise, only a slight shifting that draws a few eyes.

“Or…that works too.” You say shyly, face heating up at his straightforwardness. “Better?”

He glances over, shifting the papers to his side and gives a subtle nod as his lips pull together in a tight line, “Yeah, actually.”

And it’s almost blissful silence as Eddie copies them down, asking a few questions when your words meld together out of habit when you’re writing too quickly, he still leans in slightly but you don’t pester him on it—eventually Eddie’s actions are noticed, all eyes shifting toward the back of the classroom.

When you look up, everyone is staring back, including the pensive and threatening eyes of your teacher.

Eddie mumbles a soft, “Sorry.” as he pushes your desk back.

“Do I need to remind you two that this isn’t a matchmaking class?”

And it’s a ridiculous comment to make, but it has Eddie scoffing slightly underneath his breath.

“I’m letting him copy my notes,” You say innocently, “is that okay?”

You can’t remember having a problem in any of your classes, either flying under the radar or one of the usual favorites—you’ve never felt this tense, staring down the entirety of the group that was staring right back, though your gaze was focused on Mr. Donahue.

Eddie looks at you briefly before settling his eyes toward the desk, fiddling with pen in his hands to soothe his anxiety.

“If Eddie has a problem, he can come sit up front,” He says coarsely, “I don’t think you have the wiggle room to be socializing, do you?”

And suddenly his gaze on you is forgotten, flicking toward Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t give him the satisfaction, shuffling his shoulders forward in an effort to hide himself, scribbling something random down on the paper in front of him—it’s something he did when was bored or uncomfortable, even, a comfort.

You catch Eddie toward the end of class, gripping his sleeve before he can sneak away.

“How far behind are you?” You ask him, peering up at him curiously. Eddie looks sheepish, glancing away for a moment.

“Uh, I haven’t really taken notes all semester—I kinda just..scribble shit down so it looks like I’m working.”

Your eyes slant down slightly, in an ire of disbelief as your mouth parts, “Eddie, are you serious?”

He shrugs, reaching a hand up to scratch his jaw. You huff through your nose, snatching the pen perched in Eddie’s pocket and uncapping it before shoving it into his hands.

“Give me your address.” You insist, holding out your arm to him. Eddie seems skeptical, fingers wrapping around your arm gently, shifting your sleeve up, “I’m getting you caught up—don’t look at me like that.”

And truly, he’s not sure how to respond. Kindness and niceties weren’t at all familiar, feeling like there was always some ulterior motive. Still, he scribbles down the information with slow strokes, careful that it doesn’t smudge—leaving a small smiley face out of spite, forcing a similar expression onto your own face.

“I’m free after six,” He tells you, “so unless you want to get caught up in awkward conversation with my uncle, wait until then.”

You laugh at that, pulling your sleeve down.

“How else am I supposed to uncover all of your secrets?”

Eddie smirks slightly, eyes averting toward the floor.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know—you just have to ask.”

He spends most of his nights—sans the ones where he’s performing for the small audience at The Hideout or hosting Hellfire meetings—organizing campaigns and writing down random things that come to his mind, feeling the need to get the thought out on paper, even if it’s song lyrics or a drawing.

He adjusts the thin rimmed glasses up his nose, eyes hurting from the strain he’s forced them through all day. He knows he should spend a few minutes resting, even just closing his eyes for a moment, but he can’t help it. Eddie knows it’s his fault, the beginnings of a headache forming as he tries to focus, his finger sneaking up to rub at his eye—he can feel the haziness, willing it away.

But then you’re knocking at his door and every thought is thrown out the window—part of him never expected you to show, his heart thrumming in his chest as he leaps from the bed, tossing the papers away haphazardly and forcing the glasses up into his hair without a thought, pushing his bangs away from his face.

Eddie whips the door open, causing you to startle slightly.

“Hi.” You say wearily, a soft smile on your face.

“Hi,” Eddie responds slightly out of breath, before clearing his throat and offering a smoother, “Hey.”

Your eyes glance up, noticing the difference in his face. His bangs were like a trademark, constantly hiding his eyebrows. You point up curiously, speaking before you can think things through.

“You wear glasses?” You ask, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“No—no uh, of course not.” Eddie responds quickly, adamant in his refusal. “Why would you—“

He’s clearly caught off guard, standing awkwardly in the doorway, eyes crossing as he follows your finger, only realizing his mistake when you drag the glasses down slowly, pushing them gently up the bridge of his nose.

“Well, that is definitely an interesting pair of non-existent glasses.” You say jokingly, grinning at his embarrassment, cheeks flushing a deep red.

It’s hard to explain how perfectly they fit his face—like it’s the missing piece that pulls him together. He’s not dressed up like usual, in a faded graphic shirt and gray pair of sweats, no jacket or rings in sight. It’s natural—and it’s in that split second you can see the real Eddie. Not the threatening, menacing Eddie Munson that everyone played him out to be.

Eddie nods wearily, beckoning you inside.

“I won’t tell anyone,” You promise him with a tinge of amusement, rounding on him as he closes the door, shoving the stack of papers at his chest, “—if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Eddie pulls the glasses off of his face, folding them up.

“It’s not that,” Eddie tells you, “—didn’t mean for you to find out about them, it kinda ruins the whole image, you know?”

Image. It makes you laugh to yourself silently.

“You didn’t seem like you were trying to hide them,” You giggled slightly, “besides, I don’t think they ruin anything.”

“I kinda forgot you were coming.” Eddie lies, knowing he had been riddled with nerves since he stepped foot inside of the trailer that evening, not understanding why he was so anxious to begin with.

“Look, I don’t mean to overstep or anything—“ You stop briefly, sighing softly, “but if you need a tutor or even just…some help, I don’t mind.”

Eddie doesn’t really know how to take it, staring at you like you’d grown a second head.

“I study with Nancy a lot,” You explain, “it’s really not a big deal.”

“I’m a lost cause,” Eddie admits with half-smile, “there’s no saving me.”

“I don’t believe that,” You tell him honestly, approaching him to shove the glasses back toward his chest, his other hand still stuffed full with the papers containing your notes, “—seriously, put them back on and I can spend a couple hours seeing where you’re at.”

Eddie listens, though skeptically, placing the glasses back onto his face—you smile without really thinking, causing him to react similarly.

“It’s okay to let someone be nice to you,” You assure him, “as many assholes as there are at Hawkins, there’s still a few of us who mean well.”

“I can’t be taught, I’m just warning you now.” Eddie remains adamant, leading the way toward his room. You follow behind eagerly, taking in the abstract way of decoration littered around the trailer.

“Fine—you can at least show me your drawings then.”

Eddie looks back at you briefly, a confused grin on his face.

“I’m really observant,” You tease, “and curious.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” Eddie asks.

“I’ve already got one secret to keep,” You respond, teasing him lightly, “what’s one more?”

“How bad is it?” You ask him, staring up expectantly.

“What—oh, my eyes?” Eddie asks, “Uh, kinda bad. It’s okay, though—I manage.”

You crease your eyebrows together, motioning for him to remove the glasses. He does, watching as you reach for a paper, holding it up in front of him.

“Tell me when you can read it clearly.”

Eddie nods, squinting as you move the paper closer and closer, until it’s only a few inches from his face, your eyes widening in shock.

“Eddie,” You stress, “you can’t be serious?”

“I told you I manage,” He argues with a slight laugh, “but it’s bad, I meant that.”

Your expression remains the same, arms falling to your side as you discarded the paper.

“They look weird,” Eddie defends, “that’s why I only wear them at home—I already get enough shit at school anyways.”

“Bullshit,” You say boldly, “they do not look weird.”

Unfortunately, you did see all of the relentless teasing he caught at school, that wasn’t lost on you.

“You don’t have to lie,” Eddie says, “it won’t bother me.”

“I’m not,” You counter, smiling as the glasses returned to his face, his eyelashes touching the lenses, bangs brushing against the rim, “they fit you—they’re…cute.”

Eddie snorts in disbelief, “Okay, enough.”

You smile to yourself, watching as his cheek flushed a faint pink.

“Can I try them on?”

Eddie doesn’t answer outright, pulling them away from his face and handing them over—they’re a little bigger, his more prominent facial structure different from yours and causing the glasses to slide down your nose slightly. You push them up with your finger, squinting at the strain it puts on your eyes.

You can see Eddie smiling over the rim, admiring how perplexed you look in the moment, “Don’t look at me like that,” You say playfully, “these things are really strong.”

Eddie shakes his head, “It’s—nothing, nevermind.” He pulls the glasses from your face gently, placing them back on his own.

And Eddie’s never been shy, but suddenly he can’t force the words out, afraid of the mix of both rejection and embarrassment.

“I like you like this,” You tell him, hoping it eases him, seeing how tense he was—clearly unloved by many, “I mean, I like you both ways but this—it’s nice.”

“You’re the first.” He says flippantly, not aimed at you for any specific reason. He’s not immune to the words thrown at him, they do start to wear on him after time, even if he brushes them off for the most part.

“They’re insane,” You tell him with a surety, “all of them.”

“Careful,” Eddie treads, “Jason would have a fuckin’ field day if he heard you say that.”

You shrug, smugness in your expression.

“He’s terrified of me.”

“Jason—terrified of you?” Eddie asks, begging for more clarification.

“Our parents are friends—I’ve seen…a lot.” You say cryptically, not wanting to dive into details, “I’m not one for blackmail but I’m not totally above it.”

“You’re so interesting,” Eddie speaks candidly.

“I’ll take that was a compliment?” You respond, “Hopefully.”

Eddie nods with a subtle smile.

“Well—like you said,” You start, repeating his earlier sentiment, “I’ll tell you anything, just ask.”

You hold your finger up as his mouth opens—

“But, notes first—secrets later.”

Eddie pushes his glasses up comedically, forcing a quiet laugh from you—it’s the exact reaction he wants. He settles, agreeing with your rules.

“Deal.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[yourejinx]

Undeniable Bonds

Azriel x F. Reader

Warnings: angst, as per usual. Violence, mentions of blood, descriptions of injuries, mentions of death, curse words, feelings. Not proof read.

word count: 4k+.

Author’s note: Here it is, finally. It sucks, I hope you like it lol 

CHAPTER FIVE

The house was too packed for his liking, when Cassian bursted in through the balcony and set Azriel down by the group of healers already waiting for him, he out right growled to everyone to get the fuck out.

It startled Feyre for a second, the fierceness in the General's face, the worry. Amren's whole demeanor had changed the second she took a glimpse at the state of the Shadow Singer, no sign of you around. She was ready to pounce at the Illyrians demanding answers when Nesta pointed at the darkness in the sky, rushing towards them. Rhysand. Even from this distance, Feyre could make out the utter desperation in her mate's features, he was using too much of his power. 

A cloud of darkness surrounded him like a thick veil, undoubtedly holding you within. Something had gone terribly wrong. But nothing could have prepared her for the sight of you in his arms, limbs angled the wrong way, blood leaking everywhere...and your eyes, utterly black and gone. You were spasming against Rhys' chest as if fighting him —his power—as he approached Madja. 

"I didn't know what else to do" The High Lord almost sobbed as he passed you to the healer. 

Madja's face was serious but full of concern, she settled you down by the fire in an attempt to keep your freezing body warm, and run a quick eye over your exposed injuries. Rhysand's power never let go of you. "She started lashing at me with her own magic and when she tried to hold it in her bones started twisting and breaking. I had to– I had to do something so I hold her down, she keeps resisting it" 

The healer only nodded gravely, Feyre could have sworn the old female's face had paled a bit. 

"I need you to keep holding her down. She's lost too much blood. I have to seal these wounds right now. Everyone else out! Except you, High Lady, we might need you here." Madja ordered and got to work. 

Rhys turned to his mate, his wife and the look in his violet eyes told her enough of what was going on in his head. The snap of her neck, and her lifeless body at the hands of Amarantha. She swallowed the lump in her throat and gripped her mate's hand firmly. 

Behind them the Shadow Singer, conscious enough to stand, had pushed himself past the healers still tending to his wounds and now made his way to his own mate. Rhysand tried to stop him but there was nothing he could do to spare his brother from that sort of pain, so he let him through, next to them. 

The cry that left Azriel's lips at the sight of your broken body could have shattered the earth. He clutched his chest tight, face contorting in pain and terror, tears falling freely down his cheeks. In all his years working as a Spy Master, he had never known such horror. The bond tying your souls together had strained thin enough to break, your next breath could be your last and the agony that flooded him wouldn't let him feel anything else, to see anything else but you. 

Madja shot her head up looking straight to him, she was sweating, the wounds weren't healing fast enough. "Listen to me boy, you're her mate, and probably her only chance to live. This is blood magic, an ancient ritual I've never thought I'd see, someone is trying to drain her power, to steal her body. The only way to fight it is the bond in your chest, your souls are the same. So fight it, suck up the tears and make her stay." 

The words knocked him back to reality, ignoring the crushing feeling of his shattering heart, Azriel reached a trembling hand to you. He didn't know what to do, he could feel you dying, slipping away from this world and his very soul wanted to follow you. But he wouldn't let you go, not yet, not like this, if there was a tiny chance that you may live he would make the best out of it. He'd fight for you, always, because if you died...he'd take his own blade and pierce his heart. There would be no life without you, not really. 

Azriel held onto that precious, frail, golden thread inside of him for dear life, and threw his entire essence into it, his will to live, to come clean to you about his feelings and beg your forgiveness, to tell you he loves you. He got a faint hum in response through the bond and almost broke down into tears again. There was a sliver of light, as if coming through a crack in  a door, as if you were actually allowing him into your soul. He followed it inside, everything was blank and quiet except for a figure sitting in the middle of the perturbingly white room. That was you, he realized, with your back turned to him and your head hanging low between your shoulders, you looked defeated. 

"Y/N?" He called. You didn't so much as flinch. 

He walked closer, there were chains around your wrists and ankles, pretty much like the ones from the cave, but you didn't seem to care about them. No, you were too preoccupied watching the reflection of a fae child in the pond at your feet. 

She looked a lot like you, save for the caramel brown eyes. Yours were onyx black. Was she your sister? 

The image of the reflection changed and instead of a sweet little girl, a brutalized body laid. Azriel felt sick at the sight, but your eyes were glued to it, as if in some sort of trance. He hadn't heard them until he touched your shoulder, the whispers. Vicious voices whispering dark things, he recognized some of them, Ajax and Damien, but a particular one knocked the air out of his lungs. It was his own, throwing insults and telling you how unworthy you were. He fell back, completely disgusted with himself. 

"Useless. Whore. Traitor. You're the family's shame. Unworthy. Unclean. You couldn't even save your own sister. You don't deserve to live. " 

All those horrible voices burned him just as much, you had to live with this inked in your soul...for how long? How much damage had he added himself? 

You didn't even blink, you stared and stared at the little girl in front of you, seemingly less alive by the second. What was he supposed to do? How could he put you out of this misery? 

Azriel fought the sting in his eyes, focusing on the bond instead, he could feel your sadness, your hopelessness, your tired soul. So he reached down, sitting behind you and enveloped the two of you with his shadows, hoping to shut down the whispers. You only turned to look at him then, recognizing the cool touch of his shadows. 

"Azriel?" your voice sounded distant. Not quite believing your eyes. 

"Are we dead?" 

He shook his head. "No, we're not." 

"I should be. I deserve it." 

"Don't say that, it's not true. Someone is trying to steal your mind, making you believe such things." 

"You think as much, don't you?" 

"I don't. I'm sorry, Y/N for all the awful things I said, I didn't mean any of that. I swear. I can't even think of you dying... it's just too painful." 

You turned around again, facing the body of water at your feet. 

"She's dead, so why do I get to live? That's not fair." 

The Shadow Singer sat closer, careful not to touch you yet if you wouldn't allow it, and looked over your shoulder. He wanted nothing more than to hold you against his chest, wishing he could make your pain disappear. 

"That's your sister, isn't it?" He swallowed the lump in his throat. You nodded vaguely. "What's her name?"

"Aurora.." you sighed, the pain in your chest making it difficult to breathe.

"I don't know what happened, but I'm sure Aurora would want you to live. For her." 

"I've lived enough." 

"Have you? Have you truly lived? or have you just been existing?" 

"There's no difference." 

"Of course there is. And you owe it to her, to live. Not just exist." 

You grimaced but there was doubt in your tearful eyes. "I don't know how to do that," 

You admitted softly. 

"Well, I'm no expert but we can figure it out, together. I promise to be there, every step of the way." 

"Why?" 

"Because you're worth living for."  Azriel dared to wipe a few tears that had fallen down your cheeks, even when his own were now streaming down his face. When you didn't pull away, he sneaked his other hand around your waist, pulling you to him and mumbling against your hair. "Please, don't give up just yet. Please. Please. Please stay and fight for her. I'll fight for you." 

You never held him back, but your shoulders shook with the force of a harsh breath and he could have sworn the chains clicked open. 

"Alright" you whispered against his neck. He still didn't let go.

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

"She stopped thrashing," The High Lord said. Madja was just finishing healing the broken bones. 

"Mating bonds are very powerful things," she answered, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "But this is still not over, the spell remains. This kind of magic is not something I'm very familiar with, I don't know if you're going to be able to break the spell, Cursebreaker." The healer fixed her eyes upon the High Lady. "We don't have much time, so there's only a way, you’ll have just a minute to break whatever remains of this blood bond between her and the perpetrator.” 

 Feyre gasped realizing what Madja was about to do. Rhysand gave a comforting squeeze to her hand. 

There was only one way in which the spell could be broken by a third party in this situation. Death. 

“You’re going to stop her heart.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------

Three weeks. For three weeks you had remained unconscious, and Azriel had refused to leave your side in your slumber, not letting anyone else close to you. He was on edge, very irritable and prone to violence. 

The first couple of days he had fought Amren and Cassian until Rhysand had to intervene and told them to leave the two of you alone until things had calmed down. He understood, after all, what it felt like to lose your mate. Azriel’s protective and territorial instincts, only increased by the situation, had made him more unstable and ready to pounce on anyone that came too close. He hadn’t been sleeping much, always on alert, monitoring your every breath, the steady rise and fall of your chest. On the rare occasion his eyes fell closed against his will, the nightmares plagued his mind. 

Azriel remembered it all too well, being pulled away from you by some force, your power rising to go for Rhysand’s head and then the deafening thump of your body falling still. The loud silence in his mind, the numbness in his chest, the crack of his knuckles as they collided with Rhysand’s jaw. 

He constantly checked and caressed the now dim lit bond, it was still silent on your end but these past few days it had grown brighter. That gave him some peace of mind, he supposed, although he still couldn’t get a full night’s rest. Madja sent a healer twice a week to check up on you, Azriel had only barely allowed them near you, besides the twin wraiths whom he let in sometimes to help sanitize you. 

He was tired, not fully registering dozing off when one of his shadows curled up around his ear to tell him you had opened your eyes.The Shadow Singer was up in an instant, sleep be damn. 

"Hey…" he mused softly, not wanting to startle you. 

It was already long into the night, dawn had to be a couple of hours away, the only light in the room being the faelight by your nightstand. You were pale and thiner than he had ever witnessed, most of the bruises and cuts were gone, but the deeper ones would take a while to fully heal due to the faebane and severe blood loss. 

Azriel swallowed thickly when your eyes met his. 

"What–?" you coughed, voice rough and hoarse. 

He quickly poured a glass of water, helping you sit up so you could drink. Three weeks without water, you gulped down the whole thing in one go. 

"Thank you," you murmured a bit distrustfully. Some clarity coming back to you. He ignored the pang in his heart. "What are you doing here?" 

In your room.

"Checking up on you, how are you feeling?" 

"Like I've just had the worst hangover of the century." You answered, wincing in pain when you tried to sit up straighter. 

Azriel huffed a  laugh, almost in relief. It was a strangely nice sound, one you couldn't believe you had missed. You took a chance to look at him, there were heavy dark circles under his eyes and a light scrub had started to grow. He looked tired. 

"How long was I out?" 

He chewed on his bottom lip. "Three weeks," 

Your eyes widened. 

"And you've been here the whole time?" You glanced at the armchair across from your bed, a blue blanket laid lazily discarded on top of it. He nodded slowly. "Why?" 

"What do you mean why?" 

"I put us in danger, it's my fault you ended up hurt. So why are you checking up on me?" 

Azriel looked dumbfounded. "It's not— you don't remember anything, do you?" 

"About what? I remember plenty about the cave, and Damien and…Ajax" 

"Y/N, you…" he stopped himself before he could mutter that damned word out. You died. Briefly, but you were gone. Would it be wise to tell you what happened if you didn't remember it? He didn't want to cause you more trauma. 

"What?"

"You were badly injured, you lost too much blood."

"Why would you care about it? You could've got rid of a problem. It just doesn't make sense."

"You're not a problem. You're my mate." 

You stared at him, fists clenching tight around the sheets. Never expecting to hear him say it out loud.

"It has never meant anything to you." 

"It means everything to me." 

"Bullshit." 

"I would rather have my heart ripped out of my chest, than watching you die," He meant it, every word of it. He knew the feeling damn well, but you didn't believe him. Why would you? After everything he's said and done to you. 

"Do not mock me."

He was growing desperate, he had to get the words out, to tell you how he truly feels. He had to make things right. 

"I'm not. I'm trying to tell you that I love y–"

"Get out." You cut him short, face contorted with anger, refusing to hear any more lies out of his mouth. 

"Y/N…"

"GET OUT." 

Azriel froze at the command in your voice, the hurt hiding beneath. You had every right to be mad at him, to not trust him. What was he expecting? For you to receive him with open arms? That he would tell you how he felt and you would reciprocate? Of course you wouldn't. And he deserved as much. So if you wanted him to leave you alone, he would respect your wishes. He would find a way to make things right, and maybe someday you may be willing to forgive him. 

"I'm sorry." Was all he offered before shutting the door behind him. 

—---------------------------------------------------

For days I have been successfully avoiding the Shadow Singer, spending most of my time curled up in my room or at Amren’s place. It was easier that way, not to talk about it, not to think about the chaotic mess my mind was in, between the nightmares, and the dreams of wildfire and the smell of pine, and those weird marks…yet somehow Azriel’s face always managed to pop up in my head. Either sad, looking down at me with red rimmed eyes, or extremely angry. Sometimes I think I could taste his rage. 

“Don’t give up just yet, please.” “I’ll fight for you.” I kept hearing his voice as well, the same words on repeat for days on end. All these thoughts all at once made my head spin and hurt. 

I didn’t know what to make of it all, in one hand he had indeed spent the last three weeks locked up in my room, looking after me in my sleep — This was confirmed by Cassian a few nights ago;— but on the other hand it was the same Azriel who had hated me the last hundred years or so, making fun of me, degrading me, insulting me. It was hard to believe he actually cared about my well being…maybe it was a thing of the mating bond, but then again, I wasn’t quite sure what that meant. 

“You know,” Amren started from her place on the couch where she was currently honing already sharp looking blades “it’s not that I don’t appreciate my apprentice coming to spend time at my house, but you can’t avoid him forever.” 

I dropped the berry I was about to pop into my mouth and gaped at her. It was the very first time Amren had made a comment about it, she didn’t usually  mingle in other people’s business. 

She rolled her eyes, returning to her work.  “I know he’s been acting like a self-entitled ass around you, but you should have seen the look on his face when they stopped your heart. I don’t think I’ve seen pain so raw in somebody’s eyes until then. And the rage…he split his hand open punching Rhysand for agreeing to it.”

The ringing in my ears was so loud I couldn’t hear anything else, my heart was beating frantically inside my chest and I couldn’t do anything but stare at her, stunned. They had stopped my heart, I had died. 

At my silence, she turned to look at me again, realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. 

“You didn’t know…” she mused, “You were gone kid, your essence wiped away. It felt like the whole House had gone quiet, muted, dull. We all felt it, I can only imagine what it must have felt like for him, your mate.” 

“I…” My mouth felt paper dry, my mind dizzy. I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. 

“You should talk to him, yell at him for all he’s done if you like, but go talk to him.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------

Cassian had refused to tell me where Rhys and Azriel had gone for the day, but it was already late and there was no sign of them. I could've asked Feyre but the truth is I didn't feel like visiting the River House any time soon. Not with the memories of the Solstice's party still fresh in my mind. 

Mor had gone out to Rita's again so I found myself alone in the house, anxious and bored. I had planned to talk to Azriel today, not entirely sure how to initiate that conversation and obviously not even damn close to figure out what I felt. But Amren was right, I had to talk to him, it was long due and we needed to get a lot of things out of our chests. It wasn't going to be easy, or nice. 

I needed a temporary distraction, something to get my mind off things in the meanwhile and calm my nerves, so I made myself a cup of tea, grabbed one of those romance books Nesta kept recommending  and wandered to the living room. To my surprise, Lucien was there; had returned from wherever Rhys had sent him last. 

He smiled upon seeing me as I took a seat across from him. 

"Nice to see you recovering well Y/N.'' Lucien offered. "I heard what happened and I'm sorry" 

I waved a dismissive hand at him, opening the book. "I'm ok now, some wounds still hurt like a bitch, but Madja said it was going to take a while for the muscle to fully stitch itself together again." 

"I see,"

No one spoke again for a while after that, I appreciated it. I delved into the book for a good half of an hour, only realizing then that it was much more stemier than I had anticipated. Not really the kind of reading I was in the mood for. I put the book down at my lap and pinched the bridge of my nose, hoping Vanserra hadn't notice my choice in books.

I took a glance at him, already feeling my cheeks heating up. The sight got me forgetting about the book for a moment.

I couldn't help staring, the way the fire light catched on his hair, bathing him in a warm golden glow. Beautiful. Lucien was beautiful. 

He smiled without lifting his eyes from the book, and spoke in a soft, sensual voice; "We shouldn't cross that line again." 

No, we shouldn't. I wouldn't. I thought to myself, but chose to say "I don't know what you're talking about." 

I averted my gaze back to my own reading. He chuckled low. 

Yes, Lucien was a very handsome male and some years ago I even found myself falling for his charm, although my dreams were still haunted by beautiful hazel eyes. It didn’t escape me why someone like Elain would fall for Azriel’s beauty, it was wrong but…there was no comparing them. 

"You're beautiful," he said. 

The bond in my chest tingled, as if in recognition of a presence. Azriel had to be nearby. I went slightly still and out of the corner of my eye I peeked into the darkness beyond the hallway. I couldn't see him so much as sense him. 

"Lucien..." I warned. 

 He still went on, "but you're mated now, and you're avoiding him because he's the only one with the power to break your heart. Always has been." 

I didn't dare look at the shadows again. 

"How long have you loved him?" 

Entire lifetimes. 

I sighed and closed the book, ready to call it a night. When I got to my room he was already waiting, sitting on the floor against my door, hands covering his face. 

"Hey," I greeted, clearing my throat. He shut to his feet almost immediately. His hair was a little disheveled as if he had just flown inside the house, there were still dark circles under his eyes. 

"Hi," he replied, moving aside in case I wanted to enter my room. I didn't, I came to stand next to him instead, resting my back on the wall. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I swear. It's just…Rhys found this and gave it to me, I thought you may want it back." 

Azriel extended the little black box I was supposed to give him at Solstice. The ribbon was gone, so I guessed he looked inside and found the handwatch. It was a beautiful piece, fully black except for its center, blue, the same material as his siphons. The numbers carved in the stone were opac black —obsidian stone—, the only strong enough material to resist the power that would flow through the siphon. I had carved those numbers myself. It was a small carefully crafted fraction of my power. 

"It looks expensive," Azriel added, scratching the back of his neck. I still didn't take the box from his hand. 

"I don't want it back. I had it made for you. It's yours, you can do whatever you want with it." 

At my refusal, he met my eyes again, searching for any indicators of doubt. He lowered his hand. 

"It 's beautiful." He whispered. "Why would you bother with something like this for me?" 

I shrugged. "For old times sake, I guess." I laughed, though there was no humor behind it. "I thought it may be nice. I know you don't like your hands, you hide them all the time, but I don't think you should. What was done to you was a horrible thing, that doesn't mean that your scars are. I think they're proof of your resilience and strength, you survived. And that's beautiful. So I thought I could give you something to help bring out the beauty of your hands, so you could show them proudly." 

Azriel didn't say anything, he just blinked and stared at the box in his hand. 

"Also, it goes well with that navy blue button up you wore to Rhys' birthday." I felt my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. "Sounds stupid now that I said it out loud." 

He came closer and looked at me with an emotion I could not recognize, but it made my heart flutter. 

"I don't deserve it, but I will. I promise I'll become someone worthy of wearing it." 

The promise he'd made was of something far greater than the watch, than any gift. He stood there promising to be better, for us. I couldn't even grasp the idea of it, for there was still weariness in my heart. 

I swallowed the small lump in my throat and nodded, wanting to change the subject. "So is everything ok with Rhys now? Amren told me what happened." 

His body tensed for a moment and then he let out a long breath. "Yeah, everything is fine now. We talked it through." He cleared his throat. "Actually, we just came back from the Day Court." 

It was my turn to tense now. I hadn't spoken to Helion since I took the offer, Rhys was probably dealing with it. 

"Was it about me?" 

Azriel nodded. "Helion's been asking about you and insisting you'd be safer at his Court. Rhys told him you needed more time, that as of the time being you were still a member of the Night Court." 

Two heartbeats passed in silence between us. "I didn't know you were leaving." He admitted in a sad whisper. 

"To be honest, I've completely forgotten about it these past few days. It's been kind of a hurricane inside my brain lately." 

"Why did you want to leave?" 

"A fresh start sounded nice. I have no history with Helion so he wouldn't feel obligated to over-pay me for my work. An honest way to earn my living. Plus the library there was breath-taking. " 

"If it is about what I said that time, it wasn't true. Rhys doesn't feel obligated to anything and you do earn every copper you make." 

"It 's not. I've been thinking about it for a while." I took a sidelong glance at him. "What do you think I should do?" 

The question seemed to take him by surprise. "I can't be objective about it." 

"Why not?" 

"Because I don't think I can be away from you." 

There. The words hung heavy between us, the air was charged with emotion and I couldn't breathe properly. There were so many things I wanted to say, yet none came to mind. Did he really mean that? In what way? What about Elain? 

Every instinct in my mind screamed bullshit, a few weeks ago he was oh so enamored with the middle Archeron sister that it made me sick, and now he couldn't stay away from me? And what about before, with Mor? Or when he was too busy to even acknowledge me? 

I took a deep breath. For how long have I wanted to hear him say that he cared? That he wanted me as I wanted him? Centuries maybe. So why did it make me angry now? I felt like suffocating again. I needed to breathe, to calm the raging thoughts in my head and cool down. We were going to have this conversation, but I couldn't do it here when I felt like the already narrow hall was closing in on me. 

"I need some air." I said getting off the wall and walking to the stairs. Maybe the cool breeze of the city would blow some clarity into my mind. 

When I noticed he hadn't moved I asked over my shoulder, "aren't you coming?" 

An open invitation, and a little piece of hope that it wasn't over. That whatever lay between us could be saved. He followed a moment later, no questions asked. 

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

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[cup1dt3a]

hi, if you dont mind me requesting, how about a wally darling x gn reader where they are the villain of the show, but like,, unintentionally. they are vv clumsy and knock into shelves at howdys, trip eddie on his mail route, ruin julies chalk games, etc. and every time they feel horrible, but run away because they are scared of confrontation. so one day they knock over all of wallys paints while hes stepped away, and when he goes to their house to give them a piece of his mind, he finds them crying and ranting to their cat about how bad they feel but how scared they are to apologize (sorry if its too long!! ive had this idea in my head all day lol)

A poor soul who is mistaken for the villain being a victim to their own clumsiness. I love it! Hope you’re having a good day or that it gets better! Also you’re fine I love it when I get descriptive requests! ⚠️⚠️warning: Angst

“ Oh no! No no no!” You gasped panicking over the now kicked over bucket of paints.

All you wanted to do was take a closer look at Wally’s newest artwork on the large canvas. But no you just had to accidentally step into one of the paint cans. As you tried to get your leg out of it you had only made things worse. Sloshing paint everywhere, knocking down more cans, tubes, and almost the canvas. But you had managed to save in it your colossal pile of mistakes. As you finally got your foot out after jerking it out the heavy can you had noticed a small smudge of red paint. Your heart beat quickened. You ruined it! You ruined all of Wally’s hard work, hours, seconds, and passion. You just ruined it!

Why are you like this? Well that’s obvious. You’re the town screw up. The pushover who always ruins everything. You sometimes avoid going anywhere for months because you’re too scared to ruin something else. For instance one time when you were just looking the ingredients you needed to bake a cake as an apology to Julie for accidentally giving her poisonous flowers. They had all of her favorite colors , but turns out hot pink can literally burn your eyes. You had knocked down two shelves after hitting your head on them. You didn’t know what to do or how to handle all the eyes on you so you ran. Just like with Julie after giving her the flowers you ran. Just like with Frank when you accidentally tore half a page in one of his books. Just like with everyone else you always ran away.

Just like right now as you ran away from an enraged Wally who had just came out of home. Frozen in shock taken back by his usual cheeky smile now gone and replaced with an annoyed look. So you rushed to your only sanctuary as always your house.

You apologized as you ran back to your own house. You panted slamming the door as you knees curled into the floor of your home. You just wanted to look at someone’s painting and yet instead of being able to admire their work you ruined it just like every thing else. All except for one soul in this name uttered your name with a scowl. Well if they could and it was your pet cat Mr.Wiggles. He was an adorable spynx cat who you one day found out all alone in the rain in a battered up box. His red eyes may have made him look scary but you find them enduring from how much love he always showed once you were in the room. On days when you let him wander around with you to most he would look like your evil sidekick ,but to you he looked like a little angle just wanting to make friends. It’s almost like you were both on the same boat of being the outcasts of the group.

You sat on the cold floors as Mr. Wiggles came to your aid at the hurried slam of your front door. Meowing attentively as if he was trying to ask what was the matter. Seeing as you were once again crying once home. Curling beside you as he tried to comfort you.

“ Thanks buddy, but I don’t think we’ll be welcome here anymore.” You sniffled trying to hold back the rest of your tears.

“ I’m fine I just…screwed up…again!” Your voice cracked as the tears poured down once again while you trembled from each sob.

This was outrageous! How and why do you always keep on doing this!? Tube after tube of his new paints were ruined. Even his brand new canvases he laid out behind his latest work. Everything ruined and covered in the new paints. Were you just trying to make everyone feel bad? Every time you came out of your lair you always ruined something. For instance with Julie you made her sick for a week with flower pox! You had tripped Eddie while he was out on his daily run to Franks house. Burnt Poppy’s cookies when she asked you to watch over them. Ripped a book of Franks favorite book sure it was Frank, but even he wouldn’t do that to that to him. You had made a huge hole in Sally’s now broken stage. You knocked down two displays in Howdy’s store and didn’t even try to help. The worst one was with your evil little cat. He had pounced onto Barnaby’s head.

And now you decided to ruin his work. That was the last straw. Chance after chance was given to you, but now it seems like you’re just testing your luck.

“ How does someone even manage to achieve all this in under 5 minutes!?” He frustrates at the ruined paints.

His cavas had a small smudge of red paint on it thankfully. Everything except his painting was mainly ruined. But just why do you do this? The first few times when you first came here everyone brushed it off as small accidents, but it was just a constant cycle of ruining things. So he had no choice, but to try and confront you. To see just why you kept doing this. And to give you a piece of his mind once and for all.

As he greeted a few of his neighbors while he stomped over to your own home he eventually came to the dark and gloomy home of yours. Already giving him chills down his spine as he was about to knock on the door. But he soon had heard sobbing and continuous meows. Concerned he looked around to see where they were coming from and noticed one of your darkly colored windows opened still. He sneaked around the corner peeking through the cracked window.

“ I know I know! It’s just that whenever I make a mistake and try to help I just can’t stand trying to talk to anyone.” You cried.

“ I just want to be friends and make up for my mistakes, but every time I try I make a new one! I even ruined Wally’s beautiful painting and got Julie sick! I’m just a horrible person aren’t I?” You ranted to Mr. Wiggles.

“ It’s just like every other neighborhood I’ve gone to! Soon enough they’ll all start hating me and want me gone again.” You cried now uncontrollably sobbing.

He then felt pity for you as you cried out to your cat now holding him close. Just as he was about to try and comfort you he soon tripped over a stray thick vine in your almost dead garden.

“ Wha..What was that!?” You gasped startled as you slowly got up hurriedly seeing who had just yelped outside your open window.

“ Hello Neighbor!” Wally popped up from the outside of your window startling you.

“ H-Hi…I swear I didn’t mean to knock over your paints! I just…I swear it was an accident!” You sniffled.

“ I know. I didn’t mean to ease drop, but I heard everything you said. But I just wanted to say sorry to you. ” He chuckled trying to lighten up the mood even as your glazed eyes still threatened to draw tears again while you used to window as a fence between the two of you.

You shyed away from his gaze as you croaked out “ Why… I’ve done nothing, but ruin everything since I got here?”

“ Well we haven’t been the best of neighbors to you. I don’t even think I’ve even tried to get to know you.” He said as you rubbed your eyes trying not to cry again.

“So how about we give this another shot?” He asked extending his hand out for you with a comforting smile.

“ I’d like that a lot… Neighbor.” You smiled getting up from the barrier you of your window taking his hand.

Maybe things will be different this time.

Thank you all so much for reading this all the way here! Hope you’re all doing well or that it gets better!

Sincerely-Cup1dT3A 💌

[iamnmbr3]

I love your meta but it's gotten to the point for me that when I read fics and Harry says something like "He's a disgusting Death Eater" I'm like- Nope, not in character. Harry? No. 1 Draco Malfoy apologist Harry? Unrealistic, I can't.

Thank you so much! That's really nice of you to say! And lol saaaaame. I mean don't get me wrong. I love some bitter 'both-these-characters-have-literally-tried-to-kill-each-other' enemies to lovers but that's not drarry (as their dynamic is portrayed in canon). And I think that's fascinating because they should hate each other a lot more than they do but they just can never bring themselves to. I just find it so striking how little real violence there is between them despite their very intense rivalry evolving into them literally being soldiers on opposite sides of a war. And how they just can't bring themselves to really truly hurt each other the way you'd expect and how they both always risk everything to save each other even when they should have no reason to.

Personally I think that's more interesting than them just disliking and distrusting each other. Because yes there is rivalry and bad blood and hostility but there's so much more than that and that fascinating push and pull is what makes their interactions so interesting to me.

I mean, canonically by the end of book 6 Harry has shifted into full-on worrying about Draco. And he keeps worrying about him all through book 7. (Not to mention saving his life and being saved in return by Draco at the Manor). This is wild. Draco is a Death Eater. Draco let other Death Eaters into the school. Draco almost got Katie and Ron - 2 friends of Harry's - killed. Draco is indirectly responsible for Bill's face getting ripped off. He also seemingly contributed to Dumbledore's apparent murder by disarming him and leaving him vulnerable.

But Harry doesn't hate him. He understands that Draco has changed his mind and doesn't want to be doing what he's doing anymore and has realized the folly of the side he's chosen (but tragically too late). He pities him. He worries about him. He doesn't despise or blame him. He even apparently conceals Dracos's crimes from magical law enforcement and blames everything on Snape.

Given this, I always personally find it a bit jarring when canon compliant fics have Harry go too overboard with the whole "omg he was a Death Eater" angle because it doesn't fit with his actions in canon. I mean after he walks in on Draco crying in book 6 and saying some hugely incriminating things Harry's reaction is to completely back off - simply because his investigation is putting Draco in danger. Even though Draco is pretty clearly a potential danger to others. And by the end of book 6 he's even more sympathetic to him after seeing Draco's change of heart. In book 7 he's viscerally horrified by seeing Draco forced to torture Rowle and the thing that motivates him to block out his connection to Voldemort for the first time is not wanting to see Draco tortured after the escape from the Manor. And he thinks about him quite frequently. And he even puts not only his own life at risk to save him, but also the lives of his friends (who he values far more than he values himself).

Given all this, while I certainly think Harry wouldn't immediately be best friends with Draco or forget about all the bad things he and his family did, I don't think he'd be over the top hating him like I see in some fics where Harry is outraged Draco didn't go to Azkaban or enraged by his mere presence at Hogwarts for 8th year or stuff like that, given he wasn't that bothered by Draco in 6th or 7th year when he had a lot more reason to be. That level of hostility and mistrust just doesn't feel like it fits to me.

Of course everyone is free to interpret and write the characters how they like. These are just my personal views and preferences. (And to be fair I also find it a bit jarring when Harry starts talking like he's been on tumblr reading drarry metas in defense of Draco so it's definitely a balance).

[slptkns]

Can I have Poly sleep token x reader smut that has no one allowed to cum inside the reader but vessel and he gets so possessive over it once he cums he will already you somehow even wider to make sure it’s there and the others will look with him too jealous that they aren’t allowed to experience that and it just has vessel smirking his ass off (idk what came over me but yeah hope you enjoy lmao!)

OMG I TRIED TO ANSWER THIS YESTERDAY AND THE WHOLE ANSWER WAS FUCKING SENT TO THE SHADOW REALM SO I HAD TO REWRITE IT! I hope this answer is good though! I had so much fun writing this one!

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Nasty raunchy, porn with literally zero plot, unprotected sex

A/N: UNDER THE CUT BECAUSE IT'S INSTANTLY NASTY LMAO. I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible! Like it's not specific 'hole' wise LOL.

Your eyes cut to Vessel and you paused. Vessel would always ask, and your answer was always the same. But, you felt comfort in knowing he always asked.

You were sprawled out on the bed, sticky from sweat and cum. Your breathing was ragged and your chest heaved. With eyes stuck on the slow moving ceiling fan you tried to calm your breathing.

“Think you’re up for another round?”

“Yes…” You nodded.

II almost went feral. His eyes widened and stepped forward, completely ignoring Vessel, who was sitting right beside you.

The four of them had a routine. After the foreplay, III and/or IV would get you first. They were softer, a little more gentle with you. While they all made sure you were comfortable in everything they did, III was the most careful with that. He was goofy and loved loving you. IV was soft in a more chilled out sort of way. He was taking his time with you and was slightly more serious than III.

II, on the other hand… He got excited very easily. II always got you second to last. The roughness was something you would look forward to. You liked the soft and sweet and slowness of III and IV, but II always hit different. He was definitely the most likely to throw you around and rail you until you were seeing stars. The balance was something you quite enjoyed.

Your eyes cut from Vessel and towards II. Vessel, smirking to himself, grabbed your hand for a moment, rubbing circles on the back of it with his thumb. And then II reached you and you were pulled up from the bed and flipped onto your stomach.

Vessel released your hand, and instead opted for rubbing your back. He was not going to leave your side. Not because he didn’t trust the others, he just had plans of his own.

Cheek against the mattress and ass in the air, you waited for II’s next move. II angled himself and easily pushed into you. A soft mewl escaped your lips and your fingers intertwined with the covers.

“Look at you…” Vessel purred in your ear, “Taking him so well.”

You bit your lip and let out another cry of pleasure. Vessel couldn’t help but give you a toothy smile, so proud of how well you were doing with all of them. Your eyes shut tight and Vessel’s fingers ghosted over your knuckles, that were absolutely turning colors from the grip on those sheets.

II kept a steady, rapid pace. One that wasn’t too fast, but definitely quicker than anyone else’s. The sound of skin hitting skin echoed through your room. All eyes were on you, everyone watched as II made you come undone for, what felt like, the umpteenth time that night.

It didn’t take much to really lose it. A soft mewl turned into you crying out for II as your entire body tensed and shook. You were so sensitive already, it did not take much to cum. Tears pricked your eyes and your breathing picked up again.

“Oh, my love~” Vessel sat up as he spoke, “You look so beautiful taking his cock. But you’ll look even better taking mine.”

II let out a growl, and his pace picked up, sloppy and fast. Vessel grabbed II’s forearm and gave him a look. It was enough to slow II down. He pulled out of you and pumped himself for a second, before releasing onto your back. A quiet moan came from II and you couldn’t help but smile a little bit.

The hold you had on them was something that could not be fucked with, ad you knew it..

And then, you remembered, it was finally Vessel’s turn. When they were all with you, Vessel always, always got you last.

“Are you ready, love?”

You only nodded at him. Vessel was slow to flip you back over on your back. You would definitely have a mess to clean up tomorrow… But you would worry about that tomorrow.

Vessel angled your hips upwards, and let you lie there on your back. You closed your eyes and steadied your breathing. When you reopened your eyes, II, III, and IV were standing closer, watching you and Vessel with intense eyes.

Vessel slowly pushed inside of you and when he pulled back out, your hips instinctively chased his. He smirked down at you and kept going.

Vessel was always a nice medium between II, II, and IV. They all loved and fucked you differently, and you loved them for that. Vessel was in control, even if you or the others felt they were, it seemed to be him every time. He was easily able to flip any situation, taking back any control he may have previously given to someone else.

“Look at me, love,” Vessel’s voice was low and gruff, “I want you to watch me.”

“Can’t even see your eyes-” You quipped back at him.

Vessel responded with a thrust and you moaned out, your eyes already having trouble staying on him. But, you obeyed as best you could.

Once again, there was just the sound of skin on skin. Your skin on fire from the stares of your boyfriends. Vessel leaned over you and began to groan. His noises were soft, quiet, and low, but fuck were they hot.

When he let out a soft whimper you could feel another orgasm coming. You cried out for Vessel, and your toes curled. One of his hands grabbed your thigh and he threw your leg over his waist. He kept going and you bucked your hips. Your back arched and you threw your head back.

Your thighs muscles clenched and you were wrapped around Vessel, keeping him deep inside of you. He moaned out words you couldn’t comprehend from seeing stars, and you felt him cum inside of you.

He fucked his cum into you and he smiled against your collarbone. When he finally moved, you were left on the bed and he crouched in front of you. You knew what was coming, but every time your body responded the same way.

Chills ran up your spine, hair standing on end, as Vessel’s hand landed on your thigh and pulled your legs apart. His cum was slightly running down your thigh and you peeked up at him. He was smirking at II, III, and IV.

He was saying something to them, but not aloud. They would keep some words between just the four of them, and by how Vessel was smiling something was being said. II, III,and IV looked at you and back at Vessel, their eyes dark and full of what you could only assume was jealousy. Jealousy from Vessel being the only one allowed to cum inside of you.

They never argued about it, not out loud at least. You were sure II, III, and IV would say something if it was that big of a deal. But at the moment? It caused jealousy and something to stir inside of them.

Vessel looked at you with a cheshire smile and you sat up, resting on your forearms, completely aware they were still staring at your lower half. You cocked a brow at him.

“They said you look so good with my cum dripping out of you.”

“They did not say that!” You fell back on the bed and laughed. “They did not fucking say that!”

Vessel pouted at you, “They may have said other things, but they did say that.”

“Okay. I’m too tired to argue. Would someone like to help me clean up?”

[maryhadalittlehobby]

Recap of my experiences at the IWTV Premiere April 30, 2024

I found out about if from one of the most unlikiest sources. A person I thought was an even bigger fandom lurker than myself😅 I wasn't even gonna ask but I said fuck it, maybe they know someone who knows someone. And they did but said people were under ndas. Initially said they couldn't say but then last minute said they believe they knew where it was going to be.

I didn't say anything because 1) I didn't want them or their friend to get in trouble by spreading the info. 2) possibly spread misinfomation if that wasn't the place and 3) nobody asked lol

I thought I would just show up and see what I could see. In the past I have done this at a Walking Dead premiere. At that event it turned out that they had a lobby full of props that anyone could enter and take pics of. They even had walkers roaming around. Then the kicker-I got into that TWD premiere TICKETLESS by pure accident! So why not fuck around and find out again.

I put on a "closet cosplay" of Claudia in the upcoming yellow dress using all stuff I already owned and headed out.

I walked up to Mckittrick hotel, asked if there was a standby or waiting list but the person said they didnt know. There was a lot of important looking people surrounded with guards double checking lists and whatnot so I gave up that angle and loitered around with the other 15 or so fans who found the location too hoping to just see a glimpse of our favs.

Didn't have to wait to long as one by one they started showing up. The first one I noticed was Delainey and she slayed in that black sheer number. She was soft-spoken and a little shy but took her time and signed/took pictures with all the people who were there. Not sure if she knew I was cosplaying Claudia but she did compliment my contacts.

I had all my pics on motion video so if I didnt like the actual pic there was a few frames of vid to pick from as well. The actual video is a bonus! Too bad I can only link 1 video here but a lot of vids are on my IG in the highlight. Same name!

Then Sam came. As soon as he exited the car the wind blew his hair back and I lost my train of thought. He is pretty and his eyes are a lighter shade of blue than they look in pics. Also he is blonder! And so slim! The suit they had him in was a fun nod to vintage suits.

He too complimented my contacts! In the vid he is asking me questions about them but as soon as I take the pic another fan was yelling his name and grabbed his attentionl. Not mad lol I probably would have gotten less coherent the more I talked😅

Jacob showed up soon after-all smiles. What a cutey. He was damn near falling in the garbage they had us lowly non invites next to trying to contort this way and that to sign and take pics. Again-so small! And he too complimented my contacts😁 if the suit would have been properly tailored( the pants looked to long!) It would have been slay

Not gonna lie I kinda blacked out after meeting Sam so my memory with jacob is fuzzy.

Assad and Luke arrived together shortly after but got whisked away pretty quickly so I didn't get a pic with them. Eric was the very first to arrive and despite me being there I missed him too.

But I was sooo happy getting the unholy family little else mattered. I contemplated waiting after but I was BUZZING with adrenaline and starving lol. My fandom plug said she did come after and met EVERYONE and their momma. Cast and crew alike and they were still happy to engage even after their long night❤️

Finally Fang Gangers, please do not repost/ reupload/ or screenshot anything of mine as your content. Linking back / sharing is ok.

🖤🧛🏾‍♀️

[theblueflower05]

I promise I’m going to get the first chapter of These Violent Delights out soon- but until then please accept these little blurbs as consolation prizes lol I think about this man non stop and have to share my thoughts somewhere!

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

I came to the conclusion as I was writing and day dreaming this weekend that Bjorn is extremely switchy- but leans towards being submissive in bed.

Hear me out. Hes explorative, he likes to make his partner feel good but once he gets comfortable in their relationship that boy wants to be DOMMED. He wants you riding him with your dainty hand around his throat. He wants you sitting on his lap and leaving marks all over his neck and collar bones and claiming him for everyone to see.

And most of all, he wants to be the little spoon.

No matter how much he denies it when you bring it up in front of all of your friends after taking one too many shots of the sketchy moonshine Navarro “won” in a game of darts.

Lmfao

Because this almost six foot tall man, who’s so tough and mean to the outside world, is goo when it’s just the two of you. He’s laying his head on your chest and demanding you play with his hair.

“You got to be the little spoon last night!” You protest with a faux glare as the two of you climb into bed and he’d flipped over quick and grabbed your wrist, attempting to wind your arm around his waist.

“C’Mon babe, I had a long day” he’s such a whiner “don’t act like you don’t wanna hol’ me now. You’re breaking’ my heart”.

You huff but concede, like you always do. Wrapping around him like a vine, burying your face in his tshirt, between his shoulder blades.

When your hand slips down the planes of his stomach and into the front of his baggy flannel pajama bottoms he gasps. You’re at the perfect angle to take control, fingers taking their time as they delicately trace the veins of his shaft and then his tip that’s already weeping for you.

He hisses as you rub his own precum all over him. It’s hyper sensitive and your gentle touches almost hurt

“Stop teasin’ me” Bjorn groans, his hips moving in little circles, trying to gain friction.

Even though he knows he could easily over power you, flip you over and get whatever he wants from you, he doesn’t. He wants this. Wants to be at your mercy, wants you to make him feel good.

You kiss the back of his neck, just the barest hint of teeth coming to play “you love it”

If you guys have any prompts or blurb requests- lemme know!