#i realize some people use these tags outside of games now

[nicklasbackstroke]

Every time I start to think maybe the leafs bottom 6 isn't THAT bad the athletic informs me of more crazy stats lmao

[suiana]

❝ I Reincarnated Into a Shitty Chirstmas Romance Movie and My Love Interest is a Yandere?! ❞

✎ featuring my creature, Ezra Valentine :3 this is just ezra being a weirdo, some lore for my game? idk blawg just read it and you'll find out

✎ special shoutout tags to these people @yandere-yearnings @forbidden-sunlight @moyazaika @bun3333s @yanderenightmare @cumtastiics @ozzgin

Your "childhood friend" is a bit of a weirdo, you think.

Staring at you for far too long, lingering touches that suggest that he's more than just a bit interested in you, and the weird random confessions about how he wants to get crushed under the heel of your right shoe...

It's just weird.

You've reincarnated into a shitty christmas romance movie. And your "childhood friend", aka the love interest, aka Ezra Valentine, has a crush on the main character, you. Obviously.

You don't even know why you watched this movie in the first place. Boredom, maybe? Yeah, probably was because you started dozing off after hour 1 of the movie. The movie was... 1 and a half hour long? It wasn't even rated that high. Like a... 6.9 at best.

And now you're stuck here all because you watched this shitty movie with an even shittier plot. Where the main character left the small town for a big city, came back home to celebrate christmas and meets childhood friend, decides to give up big city life because they both fall for one another.

Just like every other damn Mallhark movie. Predictable, boring, absolutely TRASH.

You don't even know why or how you got reincarnated into this damned movie in the first place! Did you fucking pass away in your sleep??? Actually just die from fucking boredom???

Well it's no use thinking about that now because you've been stuck in here for a while now. You think that you're maybe about halfway through the original plot, where Ezra and the old mc were supposed to have some bonding time together and shit. But that's not the case now, because you've changed the plot.

And you're realizing that this "childhood friend" of yours... Is acting a little bit differently.

You don't remember him being that much of a weirdo in the original movie. If you remember correctly,he was just like, a little bit of a shy loser boy who was infatuated with the MC and liked gaming. But now... Now he's, what, a masochist? Or did they just not add that fact into the movie? You couldn't have forgotten. If the love interest was openly a weirdo like he is to you, you wouldn't have dozed off in the first place. Just now, he literally asked to be crushed under your right shoe. Crushed. Under. Your. Shoe. How the hell is that boring? You'd be 101% AWAKE. You love freaks more than anything, damn!

Now that you think about it, he's more than just a bit of a weirdo.

He's been calling and acting like he's your boyfriend. Hell, he acts like a CLINGY boyfriend too. Asking where you're going, clinging to you, giving you those damned boba eyes everytime you talk to others, specifically dudes. Fun fact but you wish he'd stop abusing those eyes of his because fuck, how can you resist him when he's looking at you like that?

Worse of it all, you can't do anything. Not when your key out and helper, Ai, said to act cool and to not arouse any suspicion from him.

Ai's also another character in this movie by the way. His character trope: the hot side character that barely gets screentime and is also sentient. And right now, he's helping you find a way back to your world... Meanwhile you've been stuck in Ezra's apartment under the guise of a mandatory childhood bestie sleepover.

It's been days since you've actually last seen Ai in person because of how much Ezra, your "childhood friend", has been clinging to you. In just the past 3 days, he's made you watch the entire fnaf lore theory THRICE. And not once have you stepped outside his apartment. Not because you don't want to, but because he'd always find some bullshit excuse to keep you with him.

"O-oh but kitty you'd miss this very important scene... Where freddy goes hurhurhuhr"

"Kitty! Kitty you can't leave now! We have to watch it again! What? We watch it more times so it gets engrained into our brains! That's just common sense!"

"Keeping you h-hostage?! I'm not! All friend do this! It's just u-um, friend bonding time! We haven't been around each other in so long you know..."

It's weird. Just plain weird.

Thankfully you still have your phone so you could occassionally sneak a message or two to Ai, informing him of your current situation. As long as that black haired man baby doesn't see everything is fine...

y/n: currently watching a new video, thank gyatt for that

y/n: would actually jump if i have to watch more fnaf

y/n: erm... lowkey think this is worse though... its a video about danganronpa

Ai: don't worry, i'll be there to save you in a bit

Ai: i might have found a way to get you out of here

y/n: fr? ty for that silly goober :3 all while im chilling on the couch having some me time :333 ur so skibidi

"A-ahem! y/n who are you texting..?"

Shit. This damned guy! What does he think he's doing? Just popping up the second you finally have some alone time?! Wasn't he passed out from lunch just minutes ago???

"Erm... Just a friend?"

Ezra stares at you with wide round eyes, lps turning down into a frown before he sits uncomfortably close, pressing his long, lanky body against yours. Always the tall skinny guys that are the biggest weirdos man.

"Just a... friend?"

"Yeah, just a friend."

I mean, it wasn't wrong. Ai really was just a friend to you. Or at least that's what you think. To Ezra and his fucked up mind... Maybe you were abandoning him? And now he's jealous and might want to go batshit crazy on AI?

Haha! No way that would happen! Ezra, no matter how crazy he is, wouldn't go that far! He's just a loser who has an added interest in you now after all!

The look in his eyes say otherwise though.

"But I'm your friend, aren't I?"

Cold, dark, obsessive.

The way he stared at you sent literal chills down your spine. He had never looked at you in such a way before. Pathetic and needy, yes. But never this... Whatever the hell this was.

You back into the fabric of the seat, feeling a cold sweat line the skin of your forehead. All of a sudden, the room feels all too small and it's like you're trapped in his apartment with no way to escape.

It was suffocating.

"I'm the only friend you need. The only one you need, y/n."

You don't really recall a time where he's called you y/n so easily. It's always some stupid petname like kitty. And goddamn it, you wish he'd just say that instead. Hearing him call your name while he's staring into your very soul like this is making you feel like you're about to shit your pants.

"U-uh, okay dude chill out. You're my dearest friend, alright? Look let's jsut go back to watching that danganronpa analysis..."

And just like that, the terrifying aura IMMEDIATELY disappears and you're left with a sopping wet puppy of a man. You decide to make the first move, fiddling with the remote as you stand up and move close to the coffee table. Anythinng to gte away from this weird bipolar guy. How the hell did he develop this? A new character arc maybe?

In the midst of you trying to look anywhere but Ezra, you fail to realize that he had already taken your phone, leaving you with no way to contact Ai now.

"Now you'll never have another friend again..."

"What was that?"

"O-oh I said now you'll never be bored again! Haha!"

Right, totally what he said.

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 2. the journal

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Your memories still remain out of reach, so you ask Joel to tell you a bit about yourself, and with the help of a journal you kept, you begin to learn more about the person you became in the past ten years, leaving you with more questions than answers.

Chapter Warnings: language, eating, alcohol use, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia

WC: 6.3K

Series Masterlist

"Did'ya get any sleep?"

You glanced up at Joel as you walked side by side towards the dining hall.

"No," you admitted, looking straight ahead again.

After Joel left you in his - your - bedroom, instructing you to rest on his way out, you found you could do anything but. Your mind was spinning with all of the information you had just learned, and you weren't sure which topic consumed you more: the end of the world or the supposed love of your life.

The longer his words set in, the more you were finding it difficult to look at him. It was such a strange feeling, having this large, burly, gruff man proclaim his love for you, to say he would stop at nothing to make you feel the same way, to insist you were meant for each other. It seemed so out of character, though you hardly felt like you knew him. But even now as you walked down the street, you noticed how some of the people in town glanced at him. Moving quickly out of his way.

It wasn't just you who found him intimidating.

You were distracted as you walked, curiously peering into storefronts and repurposed buildings when a group of children playing a game of tag nearly ran into you. At the last moment, Joel tugged your arm, pulling you into his side just in time. The children seemed to realize their mistake because their laughter quickly stopped and the smiles fell from their faces as they looked up at him.

"We're sorry, Mr. Miller," a young boy no more than eight years old said.

Miller. You never even bothered to ask his last name.

Joel just grunted and they scurried away, no doubt eager to escape his glare. You chanced a look at him, studying his stern expression when you realized he was still holding you against him. He was warm. Warmer than you expected. And solid. You cleared your throat and stepped away from his grasp, muttering your thanks and glancing around the busy street to avoid the disappointed look in his eye when it became clear you weren't comfortable with him touching you.

You shoved your hands in the pockets of your jeans and continued to walk in silence down the main road. A few people shot you curious looks or did double takes as they walked by, and you had to assume if Ellie heard the news about your accident, then others had, as well.

The Tipsy Bison came into view at the corner of the street, made obvious by the large crowds of people gathered outside.

"Does everyone have to eat here or are you allowed to have food in your homes?" you asked him, and he looked down at you, surprised by the question.

"We got food. It's not like a prison or somethin'," he said with a chuckle. "Most folks like to come here to socialize, but sometimes we cook dinner at home," he stopped short when he realized he never asked you what you preferred. "Did'ya wanna stay home instead?"

"No, this is fine," you told him over your shoulder.

"You sure? Maybe it's too much right now," he replied, jogging a bit to keep up.

"I'm sure. You won't leave me, right?" you asked, looking at him nervously.

"'Course not," he said, trying to hide his grin. He liked that you wanted him around, even if it was only because you didn't know anybody else. It was a start.

When Joel swung the door open, holding it wide so you could enter first, it might have been your imagination but you thought the loud chatter simultaneously died down for a split second. Then Joel stepped in beside you and the volume rose once again.

You wanted to look around and take in the rustic atmosphere but you could feel the eyes on you as Joel led you through the crowd, the scrutiny making you feel extremely out of place, so you kept your gaze pinned straight ahead. Following dutifully behind, you watched as people automatically moved out of his way, like he was Moses parting the Red Sea, until he reached a table in a somewhat quiet corner of the dining hall. He pulled out a chair and stood behind it, his hand still resting on the back, and it took you a second to realize he was waiting for you to sit so he could push it in. You quietly thanked him then finally looked around the room.

The dining room had tables scattered around, and as far as you could see, they all appeared to be taken. People were standing in groups, drinking and laughing and eating and you wondered how in the world your table wasn't taken. You were about to turn and ask when an older man approached your table.

"Hey guys," he said, pulling out a pad of paper from his pocket. "What'll it be?"

You went wide eyed for a moment, looking around trying to figure out what your choices were when, much to your relief, Joel spoke for you both.

"Still got any of that stew left?"

"Sure do. Few guys got lucky earlier today, too. Got two deer, so we'll be havin' more soon," he replied, jotting something down on his paper. "Two whiskies?"

Joel was about to nod when you spoke up for the first time.

"Just water for me, thanks," you said, and the man nodded his head.

"Thanks, Seth," Joel said as he walked away.

You glanced at Joel quickly, awkwardly catching his eye. It felt too much like a date. Dropping your gaze to the table, you tried to think of something to say.

"Probably a good idea, skippin' alcohol," he said. "Didn't even think about it, what with your head and all."

"Yeah," you said, your hand coming up to gently touch the stitches. "Besides, I don't like whiskey, anyway," you added. Joel laughed softly as he watched you shift nervously in your chair.

"What?" you asked with a frown.

"Nothin'," he replied, still staring at you in disbelief. "Just ever since you got here you've been tossin' back whiskey better than most of the men. You must've gotten a taste for it at some point."

"There's no way," you said, scrunching your nose when Seth put down Joel's glass in front of him. He stared down at it wistfully, swirling the amber liquid in the glass, lost in thought.

"Whiskey's how we first met," he said softly, still staring at the glass. You tilted your head towards him, waiting for him to continue. "When you first arrived, you were like a caged animal. You came here lookin' to blow off steam," he said with a distant smile. "It was a slow night. Just you and me and a handful of others. You were tossin' that shit back like it was nothin'."

You watched him as he reminisced. His eyes shone brightly and a small smile played on his lips, it almost felt like you were intruding on something special.

"When me and Ellie first arrived, no one really went outta their way to talk to me. I preferred it that way. Was used to bein' on my own," he continued, looking up at you now. "But that night, you sat down next to me at the bar like you had been waitin' for me or somethin'. You asked me if I was drinkin' for fun or drinkin' to forget. Those were the very first words you said to me."

You were completely silent as he spoke. The way he told it, it felt like you could see the scene playing out right before you, the way he remembered every detail left you in awe.

"What did you say?" you asked a little breathlessly.

The corner of his mouth twitched and he looked down at the table.

"Drinkin' to forget."

You waited for him to elaborate, but when it became apparent he wasn't going to, you asked him another question.

"Then what happened?"

He raised his eyebrows and hummed, a slow smile stretching across his face before he answered.

"You told me you could help me have fun and help me forget," he said, and you could feel the heat instantly flush your cheeks.

"Oh, my god," you murmured, covering your mouth, utterly mortified. "Please tell me you're joking."

He shook his head, still smiling at the memory. You glanced around the room, trying to look anywhere but at him.

"So then, did we...?" you trailed off, gaze still fixed on a spot on the wall.

"Oh, yeah. 'Course we did. I'm no saint," he chuckled.

"Jesus Christ," you said, burying your face in your hands. "That doesn't sound like me at all."

"It's not. Well, not anymore. You had an edge to you when you first arrived. Most do. Survivin' out there does that to you," he said, taking his first sip of whiskey.

You sat in silence for another minute, contemplating asking him what he knew about your life before you met him, but ultimately deciding against it. Maybe another time.

"Where's the bathroom?" you asked him, and he pointed down a small hallway near the bar. You thanked him, his eyes trailing after you as you made your way through the crowds, only dropping his gaze once you were no longer in view. It was a strange thing, recounting stories for you like that. At first, the memories made him smile, but once he saw the lost look on your face he felt the sadness creep back up, settling deep in his chest, and he wondered if he would ever get you back.

You knew you were in the bathroom too long. You knew he would likely be worried, but you just couldn't stop staring at your reflection in the mirror after you washed your hands. Who was this person staring back at you? She looked older and weathered and tired. Your fingertip gently prodded at the bags under your eyes and then a small scar on your chin. What happened to you out there to make you the person Joel was describing? What did you have to do to survive? And did you really want to know the answer?

The door swung open, startling you as three girls around your age entered the bathroom. Their giggles stopped when they saw you and you watched them exchange glances in the mirror before a pretty girl with long, blonde hair greeted you by name. Turning around, you gave her a smile, hoping they would go about their business so you could slip out of there, but of course the pretty girl wanted to talk.

"We heard you had an accident, are you okay?" she asked, and she sounded sincere, but something about her smile made you think twice.

"Yeah, got a few stitches but it should be fine," you said, your eyes flicking to the other two girls, giving them each a smile. They looked at each other and smirked before heading towards the bathroom stalls, leaving you with just the blonde.

"So, is it true? Did you really lose your memory?" she asked, her voice low as if it were a secret, and finally you were able to pick up the vibe. You had been to high school before the outbreak. You had encounters with these types of girls before. Friendly to your face, vicious behind your back.

"Uh, yeah," you admitted, and she gasped as if she felt bad, but you saw the way her eyes lit up.

"So you don't remember, like, anything?"

"Well, I remember before everything went to hell," you told her, "but I don't remember this place, no."

"Oh, wow," she said, and you heard the toilets flush before the other two girls exited the stalls, grinning conspiratorially at the blonde. "So you don't know anybody here?"

You shook your head, feeling uncomfortable with the line of questioning at this point. What was she really getting at?

"That must mean you don't remember Joel, right?" one of the girls at the sink piped up. You looked at her briefly over your shoulder and shook your head, turning back to the blonde but not before you caught the look in her eye.

"Oh, that's too bad," she said, giving you a pout. "Does that mean you aren't together anymore, or-"

Suddenly, the door swung open and Ellie stormed in. Her hard gaze drifted around to the three girls and she gave them a look of disgust.

"Scram, vultures," she told them, and the blonde made a face at her before flipping her hair over her shoulder and heading to one of the stalls. Ellie called your name and you scurried over, allowing her to lead you back out into the dining room but not before she gave the other two girls a few choice words.

"Don't talk to them, they're nasty," she told you as you weaved your way through the crowd. Joel's eyes instantly found you once you were in view and you saw him straighten up in his chair.

"You okay?" he asked, and you could see the genuine concern in his face as you sat down. You were about to answer when Ellie plopped down on the other side of him and spoke first.

"Angie and her little sidekicks cornered her in there," she explained, rolling her eyes. "Already sniffing around for scraps."

"What do you mean?" you asked her, but just then Seth arrived with your meals and you never got an answer.

"Stew again?" Ellie asked, scrunching up her nose.

"It's good," Joel told her before taking a bite. You looked down at the bowl and you were inclined to agree with Ellie, but you swallowed the food down anyway, just grateful for something to eat after such a long day.

"Aren't you going to eat?" you asked her, noticing she hadn't ordered anything and instead was busy sketching in a journal.

"Nah, I'm going to Dina's later, I'll eat there," she explained without looking up.

"Who's Dina?"

"Oh, my girlfriend," Ellie explained, glancing up at you briefly. "Sorry. I still can't get used to this. It's so weird you don't remember."

"Don't be out too late. You got school tomorrow," Joel reminded her. Even though he wasn't Ellie's father, he seemed to have quite the knack for being a dad.

"Yes, sir," she said sarcastically, giving him a weak, two-fingered salute before hunching back over her journal. You heard some familiar giggles coming from somewhere behind you, and when you turned to look, you locked eyes with the blonde girl from the bathroom - Angie - who was holding some drink in her hand, her two friends flanking her sides as she strolled past your table. Her eyes drifted briefly to Joel before she passed by, then turned her attention to her friends, disappearing into the crowd.

"Who is that?" you asked, realizing you never really got much of an explanation. Joel and Ellie responded at the same time.

"Nobody."

"Joel's ex."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as Joel glared at Ellie.

"What? She woulda found out eventually," Ellie protested.

"She ain't even an ex," he said, turning to you now. "Just a mistake I made one time before you even got here," he insisted. The tone in his voice made it sound like he was trying to reassure you there was nothing to worry about, but of course, the information didn't phase you.

"Okay," you replied with a shrug. He examined your blank stare for a moment, searching for a glimmer of recognition. The disappointment in his expression every time something like this happened was becoming too much to bear, so you dragged your eyes off him to glance around the crowded room once again. You found Tommy leaning against the bar and you stood up.

"Where are you goin'?"

"I need to ask Tommy something," you said. "I'll be right back."

His eyes followed you as you pushed your way towards the bar, his heart feeling like it was going to break. He wasn't exactly looking for you to have an overly jealous reaction to hearing about another woman from his past, but your casual indifference hurt more than he expected. When you first found out about Angie, you insisted you weren't jealous but the way you sneered at her going forward, combined with giving him the best sex of his life later that night told him a different story.

"You think she'll ever get her memory back?" Ellie asked, still focusing on her drawing. Joel sighed and dragged his hands down his face.

"I don't know, kid."

"What'd you need to talk to Tommy for?" Joel asked once you both arrived back to his - your - home. You had wandered into the kitchen, Joel hot on your trail.

"Oh, I just had a question about something I saw when we were out there today," you explained, and he raised an eyebrow for you to continue. "There were dead bodies when I came to. They looked all decayed and... subhuman. Now that you told me about the infection, I wanted to ask."

Joel watched you open and close cupboards until you found the glasses, then picked one out to fill with water.

"So you ran into some runners," he said, and you nodded. "Did he happen to mention how you hit your head?"

Your hand froze, your glass halfway to your lips as you considered his question.

"Actually, no, he didn't," you said, setting down the glass and looking up at him.

"Yeah, he didn't really tell me, either," he replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "When he told me you hit your head and you were havin' trouble remeberin' things, I just came runnin'."

Guilt washed over you yet again as you thought about Joel being told the news and how panicked he must have been. He practically ripped all the exam room doors off their hinges to find you, only to be met with a stranger when he finally did.

"Well, I can ask him tomorrow," you finally said, putting your glass in the sink to avoid looking at him.

"Yeah," he replied, trailing off a bit. He was still lost in thought, trying to remember Tommy's exact words when you walked past him towards the stairs.

"You're tired?"

"Well, it's been a long day," you told him, pausing on a stair to look back down at him.

"Right, 'course," he said, shaking his head and following you up. When you got to the doorway of his bedroom you paused, looking up at him. It seemed like he was struggling to say something, his mind working hard to find the words, but instead he just gazed down at you, brown eyes all wide and soft.

"Don't suppose anythin's comin' back to you yet?" he finally asked, and you hated seeing that look. That same hopeful look you kept seeing right before you opened your mouth and crushed him. This was hard for him, you knew that, but the way he kept looking at you was making things so much worse. The pressure you felt to become this person he was expecting you to be was overwhelming. You opted to drop your gaze to the floor and slowly shake your head.

"That's okay," he said, and you dragged your eyes back up to him. "Maybe tomorrow."

You gave him a small smile. "Yeah, maybe."

He sighed and glanced at the door to the spare room.

"You need anythin', I'm right next door," he said, hitching his thumb to the side and giving you a lopsided grin, but you could still see it in his eyes. The disappointment. The sadness. The yearning. And it was making you feel sick.

Just as he turned to head towards the spare room, you spoke. "Joel?"

And he eagerly swiveled back around.

"I'm gonna try really hard to remember," you said earnestly, looking deep into his eyes.

"I know," he replied with a sad smile. He gave you one more look before heading into the spare room and softly closing the door behind him.

Joel slept like shit.

No surprise there, really. He hadn't slept without you in years. He had hoped the whiskey would have helped, but he was wrong. His mind was racing as he tossed and turned, and by morning he had foolishly convinced himself that you would be back to normal after a good night's rest. He got up early and made coffee for the two of you, like he always did, then tended to the fire in the living room. The nights and early mornings were frigid, but the days were warm. The first sign that fall was approaching fast. He was just putting the poker back when he heard the bedroom door creak open upstairs and his heart jumped into his throat excitedly, but when you descended the stairs and locked eyes with him, he knew nothing had changed. He didn't even bother to ask. You didn't look at him the same way you used to. You used to smile and gravitate towards him, your hands always seeking out his, your eyes playful and loving, but now you looked at him like he was a complete stranger. Devoid of all affection, the only thing that remained was a forced politeness.

You said good morning and headed into the kitchen and Joel wondered how long it would take for you to come around. Less than a day ago, you looked at him in fear, but now you seemed at least comfortable in his presence. That had to count for something.

He must have looked like shit because when he joined you in the kitchen, you eyed him up and down curiously.

"Have you been up for a while?"

He shook his head and picked up his mug, taking a sip and hoping the caffeine would bring him back to life.

"How's your head?" he asked.

"Not great," you admitted, pouring your own cup of coffee. "It really hurts. I think whatever meds the doctor gave me yesterday wore off."

Without even thinking, Joel quickly closed the distance between you to examine your injury. You startled a bit when he came up behind you and lifted your hair, but for his benefit, you tamped down your reaction. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he gripped the nape of your neck to angle your head downwards in order to get a better look. You closed your eyes and held your breath as you focused on his fingertips pressing tenderly into your skin. You heard him murmur to himself, the sound coming from deep within his chest, and you realized just how close he really was. Aside from pulling you out of the way so the kids playing tag wouldn't knock you down, it was the first time he had really touched you, and he was so much softer than you expected.

"Don't think it's infected but let's go see the doc, just to be sure," he said, his hand still on your neck, his other hand pushing your hair away.

"Okay," you said quietly, finally allowing yourself to take in a shaky breath as you waited for him to release you.

As if he realized what he was doing, he let your hair fall back into place and let go of your neck, his fingertips lightly trailing down your spine before falling to his side, making you shiver and step away.

"Sorry," he said. "Should've asked to look first."

"It's fine," you told him, absentmindedly rubbing the spot on your neck his fingers just touched.

As you walked side by side to the infirmary, his stony expression slid back into place. Gone was the softness you witnessed in his home. His hardened gaze drifted around the street, then to the watch towers, taking everything in. Studying. Calculating. And that was when you realized there were two Joel Millers: the one who the rest of the town viewed as gruff and callous, and the one you saw in the kitchen that morning, soft and gentle.

You wondered how many people got to see the latter version.

Nick examined you again in the same room as before, but this time, Joel was there watching his every move like a hawk. You could practically see the tension radiating off Nick's shoulders as he moved around the room. He examined your cut carefully, Joel's eyes never once leaving his hands, confirming that it was not infected before parceling out ten little white tablets of extra strength Tylenol into a small baggie and advising you to use them sparingly as inventory was low.

"That's it?" Joel asked incredulously.

"You know how it is, Joel," Nick said, but you heard his voice waver when Joel stood up from his chair. "Meds are hard to come by, we gotta be smart-"

"She hit her goddamn head so fuckin' hard she's lucky she remembers her own name and you're givin' her Tylenol?" he seethed, and you could see his neck growing flush with anger again.

"Joel, calm down, it's fine," you said, sliding off the table. Turning to Nick, you were about to voice your thanks when Joel cut you off.

"It ain't fine. What's it gotta take to get somethin' that actually works?" he huffed, taking a step forward and making Nick shift his weight nervously. "She gotta be missin' an arm? Maybe if she hit her head hard enough to forget what fuckin' planet she's on?"

"Joel, that's enough!" you snapped with a frown, and much to Nick's relief, Joel instantly backed off. He turned and paced around the small room, his hand rubbing over his mouth as he tried to calm down.

"What about my memory? Is it a bad sign I haven't remembered anything yet?" you asked Nick, and Joel paused somewhere behind you to listen to his answer.

"Well, the brain is a tricky thing," he began, his eyes darting over your shoulder briefly. "It could be weeks, could be months. Without any imaging, I wouldn't be able to tell you much more than that." You nodded and swallowed nervously before asking your next question.

"Or never, right?"

Nick took a deep breath and looked at Joel over your shoulder again before responding.

"It's possible."

You heard Joel's boots squeak against the linoleum floor and without even looking, you knew he was anxiously pacing around again.

"Alright, thank you. We'll get out of your hair now," you said, turning to corral Joel towards the door.

"Regardless, I'd like to see you again in a few days so I can take a look at those stitches," Nick said, and you agreed while pushing a muttering Joel back out into the hallway.

"I'll get you better meds," he said as you both walked out of the infirmary. "I got patrol tomorrow mornin', but I can go out after. There's a small cluster of houses we never did a full sweep on. Maybe-"

"The Tylenol is fine, don't go through the trouble. You could get hurt," you said, shoving the baggie of pills into your pocket.

"Tylenol ain't gonna do shit. I don't want you bein' in pain if there's somethin' we can do about it."

You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck, trying to temporarily relieve the ache in your head until you could get home and take one of the pills. You gave Joel a sideways glance, studying him as you walked together. He was brash and rude and aggressive, but you were learning that side of him came out when he was being protective over the ones he loved.

Or when he was trying to hide who he really was.

"So, everyone pitches in around here, right?" you asked, trying to change the subject. "You do patrol. What do I do?"

You paused at a crossroads, trying to remember which way to go, when Joel's hand on your elbow guided you in the right direction.

"You work patrol, too, but you ain't doin' that anymore," he said, letting go of your elbow after holding on for a moment too long.

"Well, obviously. I don't even know how to ride a horse," you said with a snort. "So I guess I need to find a new job, right? Who do I talk to?"

"Why don't you slow down a minute?" Joel said with a chuckle. "Let that pretty little head of yours heal up before you go lookin' for work."

You weren't going to say anything about his comment. Although it took you off guard, you realized he had habits that were going to be hard to ignore and you didn't expect that to happen overnight, but he seemed to realize what he said on his own and awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Sorry," he said softly.

"It's okay. I know this is difficult for you," you said, shooting him a sympathetic glance as you climbed his porch steps. He swung open the door and followed you inside, where you made a beeline for a glass of water so you could take one of the pills.

"We got a lotta history, you and me. It's hard to start over," he said as he watched you toss back the Tylenol with a wince. You examined his face closely and pulled out one of the stools to sit down. You leaned forward, forearms resting on the cool countertop before replying.

"Tell me a story."

He raised an eyebrow at you but couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from turning up a bit.

"What kinda story?"

"A story about us. You just said we have a lot of history together. Let's hear some of it," you replied with an encouraging smile.

"You sure? Thought you'd wanna go lay down," he said, but he eagerly pulled up a stool across from you.

"I think I can handle one little story," you told him, then watched as he stared down at his hands on top of the counter, deep in thought. When he thought of one, a slow smile spread across his face and his dark brown eyes flicked up to meet yours and you saw that softer side of him again.

"Alright," he said, settling back a bit. "So I told'ya last night how we met."

You cringed, remembering the story of a much bolder and seductive version of yourself, and nodded.

"Well, after that night we started seein' each other for a few weeks. It was just casual, nothin' serious," he said, looking down at his hands again. "I convinced you to sneak around so no one would catch on, and you grew tired of that. Rightfully so. I was bein' an asshole."

You watched him pull at a loose thread on the cuff of his flannel shirt, his eyes still cast down and you were beginning to realize it was due to shame.

"So anyway. One day you came over to, y'know..." he said, and you felt the heat in your cheeks again. "And you confronted me about it head on. Demanded to know why I wanted to keep you a secret. Thought I was ashamed of you - which I wasn't," he said quickly, his eyes finally meeting yours again. "But I had been through a lot of shit and I just didn't think I could give myself to someone like that again."

"What kind of shit?" you asked quietly, but he just lightly shook his head.

"One story at a time," he told you with a sad smile. You chewed on your lower lip as you waited for him to continue, his focus back on the loose string while he collected his thoughts.

"So I explained I had a hard time lettin' people in, that I wasn't capable of carin' 'bout anyone like that anymore, and you said to me, 'I know who you are, Joel Miller. Don't give me that bullshit, you're just scared.'"

He stared into your eyes, letting what he said land and hoping to see a flicker of the woman who spoke those words, but you just continued to look at him, waiting for him to finish the story like it was about somebody else entirely.

"Well, you were right, obviously. You always are," he continued with a smirk. "It knocked me on my ass. And I didn't know what was more difficult to believe: that you knew me better than I knew myself, or someone like you wanted anythin' to do with me in the first place."

You smiled and dropped your gaze to the counter, suddenly feeling shy.

"I'm not saying I don't believe you, but so far, these stories don't sound like me at all," you admitted.

He took a deep breath and finally stopped fidgeting with his sleeve.

"A lot's happened in ten years. Stuff that changes people. But I don't care what version of you's here, I love all of you."

You kept your eyes glued to his hands. You wished you could say it back. You knew he wanted to hear it. Maybe one day.

He tapped his finger on the counter, pulling your attention up so you were forced to look him in the eye.

"You fought for me that night, now I'm gonna fight for you, okay?" he said, eyebrows raised as he waited for you to acknowledge him. When you nodded sheepishly, his shoulders relaxed.

"So you're saying I fell in love with you because you were an asshole?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood, and it worked. Joel laughed heartily and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Nah, you didn't love me then," he said, still smiling.

"So how did I fall in love with you?" you asked, and his tongue clicked against his teeth.

"You're gonna have to wait to find out," he replied with a wink.

It wasn't his fault, but the rest of the day you could feel Joel looking at you. He was examining you, waiting to see the woman he fell in love with, and the pressure was beginning to be too much, so you made up an excuse to go lay down in his bedroom. He had mentioned he had patrol in the morning. Maybe some time away from him would help you relax.

You stared up at the white ceiling. The distant sound of children laughing outside through the closed window and then the door to the garage swinging open and shut acted as a soundtrack to your overactive thoughts. You almost had to laugh. It felt like your mind was constantly working, churning up information and digesting it only to always come up empty.

Absolutely nothing seemed familiar. Nothing about this place or these people felt like home.

You wished so badly you could remember something. Anything to make you feel like you belonged there. One little shred of hope was all you were looking for.

And then you remembered the journal.

Sitting up in bed, you tucked your legs underneath you and reached over for the black book. You fingers hesitated for a moment on the cover. It felt like an invasion of privacy, but how could that be when it was your own?

Taking a deep breath, you flipped open the journal and began at the beginning.

Right away, you could tell you wrote the entries. There was no doubt in your mind. Aside from your handwriting, your typical disorganization shone through like a beacon on every page. You occasionally remembered to notate in the margin the date, or your best guess at the date, but more often than not you were left with very little context for each small paragraph you read.

You were disappointed to realize the journal seemed to begin after you had met Joel. A big part of you was very eager to learn more about the person you were before finding Jackson, but it seemed as though you would have to depend on others to tell you stories you hopefully had relayed to them in the past.

The first page looked to be a list of items you had jotted down that didn't make much sense, but maybe when you first found the notebook, you hadn't intended to use it as a journal.

Socks, colored pencils, sunflower seeds, cards.

Flipping the page, you skimmed a short paragraph about a cabin you stumbled upon when on patrol. Again, it was more notes than anything of any substance. A description of approximately where it was in relation to Jackson along with a note to 'mention it at the next town hall meeting'.

Finally something interesting on the next page, you read a short paragraph about someone named Maria having a baby girl, and you frowned when you read the line Joel handled it better than I expected.

Continuing on, you read an entry about Christmas: Joel found me the softest sweater, it almost felt brand new. I really don't know how he managed to find it and I described the house I grew up in to Ellie and she drew it perfectly, I can't believe how talented she is.

One paragraph in particular grabbed your attention. It was about two people, and based on the context, it sounded like you were close friends. For the first time since we got here, I had the same day off as Ben and Lisa. We went fishing together and brought a lunch. It felt just like old times. As weird as it sounds, sometimes I miss being out there with them. We made a good team.

Maybe this Ben and Lisa would be able to answer some questions you had about yourself. Based on what you just read, it sounded like they knew you before Jackson.

There was a lot more to read, but the next page stopped you dead in your tracks. Your heart began to beat faster as you stared at the four words. Just one sentence, no explanation. A shiver slowly trickled down your spine as you sat there, unmoving, as your vision narrowed on the page: Joel lied to me.

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[futurepastme]

I'm all for the "hates killing animals" Merlin (and that can still be true), but a conversation at work today made me realize that Merlin is a peasant and I don't remember cannon enough but if he's not also a farmer (even if a small one) he's definitely had to kill and prepare animals to eat before, either just for himself and his mom or to help people around in Ealdor.

Now, consider Arthur and the rest of the knights of Camelot. Before Arthur started to knight common men, they were all nobles. They were taught how to hunt, of course, but they never really needed to prepare the game they'd caught before, they all had servants and cooks to do that. They had learned how to hunt for sport and that was it.

All that to present the concept that: Before Merlin came to Camelot, Arthur and the knights (reminder: not our knights, the noble ones that Uther approved of and were already there before cannon started) had to survive quests mostly with the rations they took with them, only turning to hunting as a last resort because they all suck at preparing their catch.

They'll either skin them wrong, losing a lot of meat in the process or will simply be bad at cooking it, most times burning it a little. And the flavour, of course, sucks.

Arthur, I think, would be the only one to be half decent at that because I like to believe Uther would like to have him ready for any outcome, but he was the prince and nobody would dare to ask him to cook for them and we're talking about a before-Merlin Arthur, so I don't believe he would volunteer because at this point he's a prat.

Then comes Merlin, the idiot that was recently awarded the position as Arthur's servant. And the knights all know that Merlin is useless because Arthur's been complaining about him since day one.

Now the bumbling fool is following them to some mission somewhere and they have no hopes that he'll be of any use at all. That won't stop them to order Merlin around like the inferior peasant that he is, though.

But then.

Then they get delayed and have to hunt for food.

And of course Merlin is in charge of cooking it, because now that they have a servant there, there's no way any of those nobles will get their hands dirty with such an inferior task such as cooking.

They catch an animal (any animal, honestly. I don't care, from a mouse to a bear, it's up to you) and promptly shove it towards Merlin with no hopes of a good meal, but with the assurance that at least this time it would be bad because of a servant and they all would be allowed to complain about it with no reservations.

Then Merlin sits there by the fire, with a barely sharp enough knife and whatever animal they had caught, and seamlessly and smoothly skins the thing.

It takes him no time at all and there are no chunks of meat missing. Clumsy, idiot and useless Merlin had perfectly skinned the creature in a matter of seconds, like it was the easiest thing in the world, and had not damaged neither the meat nor the pelt.

They all kind of stop what they are doing to watch Merlin as he starts to cook the perfectly skinned meat. They stare as the boy seems to put green plants on it and some type of powders he had in his satchel, befuddled and confused.

And when they finally get to eat it, by the gods, if it isn't the best thing they have ever eaten outside of Camelot.

Slowly, the rumors of Merlin's skills start to spread amongst the knights and soon enough all of them are dying to try it.

In a matter of weeks all knights of Camelot agree that if you happened to end up in some type of quest with the prince, you're the luckiest bastard to ever live, not because of the honour to fight along the prince, but for the chance to eat a meal prepared by Merlin.

By the sixth month of Merlin tagging along with Arthur, the rations they bring to quests and such become the last resort food or maybe just side dishes, because if Merlin is at the party then hunting is mandatory, for every knight of Camelot loves Merlin's food. (Arthur is chef Merlin's number one fan, btw)

[getmeoutofhell]

Clowns in the Slasher House

warnings: clowns, body parts & cussing!

a/n: i’ve been wanting to do this so i hope you enjoy this! leave comments and request.

they all have their own separate rooms and floor in house.

you guessed it, they live in the basement. the basement has to be cleaned every damn friday, because if not, it’s gonna smell like ass and dodo.

now, let’s talk about who’s in the slasher house that’s a clown:

art the clown

penny

pennywise

the little girl

art & the little girl are the messiest out of all of them, and i stand by that. i mean, penny is very, very questionable, but art is more questionable.

sometimes they all play hide and seek, and invite you the play as well. penny is the best at it, since he can literally disappear if he so chooses to. but you had to tell him not to because that’s cheating.

pennywise is usually gone so he doesn’t join often with you guys. but when he does, he’s not the best at the game, but definitely not the worst.

art sometimes uses his hands to cover his face, pretending that he’s hiding. you think it’s funny and adorable, and you sometimes play along with it, pretending you can’t see him.

“oh dangit, i have no idea where art could be. i guess i’ll go look upstairs.” you see him giggle like a school girl before going up stairs.

the little girl likes you, and she’s more comfortable around you & art than anyone else in the house. she likes to tug on your pants leg if she wants something. you still haven’t thought of a name for her yet, but you’re working on it.

another thing about art is that you have to remind him to take his dirty ass clown shoes off when he enters the house. they’re covered with mud and other shit (literally) so it’s a constant thing you have to do to protect the rugs and carpet in the house.

you don’t have to worry about the other adult clowns and their shoes because they can make the dirt disappear in a blink of an eye.

art & the little girl make a lot of weird gifts and passes them to everyone. sometimes it’s a dead persons liver, sometimes it’s someone’s big toe that art collected. you’ll never know what you may get with him.

weekly showers. i don’t care how much art fusses his stanky ass is getting in that damn shower. every time you make art get in the shower, the other clowns laugh at him. arts reaction is to just flip them off, so that’s entertaining to watch.

penny likes to scare the others all the time. you can never get used to it because it’s always something different with him all the time. pennywise sometimes joins in on pennys little pranks but often penny does it to pennywise.

water gun fights!! especially since it’s hot out, it’s the perfect time to have some fun outside in the sun. just don’t forget the sun screen. i don’t know if the clowns would wear swim trunks but maybe you can convince them.

how can i forget the board game nights!! well art…he doesn’t like the board games much. but when he does play, he cheats. well, try’s to at least.

let’s say you’re playing uno and you’re sitting by art. you see out the corner of your eye art peek over next to you at your cards. “art don’t you dare.” he smiles before looking away.

the little girl is smarter than most people realize. she knows a lot, and does a lot. she knows when you’re depressed and sometimes will sit next to you as a type of comfort.

they like to play tag and run around the house every damn where and tear up shit.

*glass shatters* “oh my god what broke now?” you say annoyed.

should i do a part 2?

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

A Quiet Neighborhood - Chapter 2

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader Words count: 4180 Rating: + 18, MDNI Tags: POV second person, reader is female with female genitalia, wears dresses, heels and a bikini, has hair that can be tied up in a bun/ponytail, no other description is given, she doesn’t blush, smut, angst, kissing, dirty thoughts, masturbation, use of a sex toy, mention of infidelity, kinda Desperate Housewifes coded (uh, don’t judge, I love it), easter eggs in secondary character’s names (so you can have fun guessing which series/film they come from 👀), neighborhood dynamics, Carol, Molly and Alice are there. Mention of food, alcohol consumption, mention of poker game, some reader's thoughts marked in italics, swearing, Dave is a fucking menace. This takes place right after Chapter 1. A/N: Dave is finally back! First of all thank you so much for the interest you have shown in this series, I didn't expect it and it made me really happy 🥹 I hope you like this chapter, I was planning to release it earlier but I struggled a little bit with my writing. English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistake. No beta, I reread it myself, I really hope it makes sense. I would particularly like to thank @arcanefox207 , @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape for their support, encouragement and kindness. Love you, girls ♥️

Chapter 1 | Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Coming out of the bathroom everything feels too loud, ringing voice of people, music, clanging of glasses, it's all too much to bear with when all you need right now is silence to make up with your overwhelming feelings spinning in your head like a carousel gone wild.

“I need to get out of here” you think, heading toward the Horowitz' living room in brisk steps to retrieve your purse. 

Jane stops you in the track "Hey, where were you? We're having margarita, would you like some?"

You see him. behind Jane’s shoulder, through the door to the outside. He's back in the garden to his wife, holding an arm around her waist with a relaxed expression on his face, as if nothing has happened.

"I-uh-" 

"Just sip this time, don't throw it down like you did before" Jane looks at you amused "I don't want to hold your hair while you vomit in one of Walkers' fancy bathrooms"

You nervously laugh then you look at him again and it's infuriating, the way he just goes on with his life while you feel like you've been hit by a train.

Fucking worthy of an Oscar.

The temptation to go home takes you for a moment but then looking at him smiling seraphically you think, “Fuck it, I don't see why I should ruin my day for him.”

So you follow Jane into the garden to join the others.

“If he can play it cool I can too” you think ”nothing a nice margarita can't fix.”

You walk past him and see that he and his wife are talking to Edie and her new boyfriend.

He doesn't even look at you, as if you are back a figure in the background with the others.

Which actually makes sense; the opposite would be much stranger since in the eyes of everyone you are nothing more than mere neighbors.

“Dave, look, Carol left lipstick on your lips,” you hear Edie say giggling as you sit at the table with your friends, ”you two lovebirds, you're still so cute after so many years of marriage.”

You feel your heart jump into your throat but you try to maintain composure outside and greeting Susan and Emma that just arrived “fuck” you think, cursing Edie and her big mouth “Now she's going to realize it's not her lipstick, God, I'm so screwed”.

You talked to her before but now in your panic you can't even remember what lipstick she was wearing.

You smile quizzically at Gabby who hands you one of the margaritas a waiter just left at your table but you perk up your ears to catch whatever they're saying; for a moment it's all silent until you hear Carol's crystalline laughter.

You barely turn to observe them out of the corner of your eye as you take a sip of your cocktail and see that Carol is wearing a lipstick very similar to yours. You're not a church girl but right now you're literally praying that one stupid kiss doesn't make you the laughingstock of the neighborhood.

Damn you, Dave.

Carol pulls a tissue out of her purse and hands it to him.

Okay, she’s quiet. Or at least she seems to be.

And who would ever connect me and Dave anyway?

You shake yourself out of your thoughts when you hear Jane call your name “hey! are you still with us?”

You smile “yes, sorry, I was thinking about work, you know that presentation I have to give on Monday” and you squeeze into your shoulders “what were you saying?”

Jane rolls her eyes “ugh, work. I was saying we're meeting tomorrow afternoon at my house for poker, are you coming?”

“Of course I'm coming, and I plan to tear you all apart!”

Jane, Gabby, Susan and Emma all say in chorus “we'll see about that!”You laugh and sip on your margarita again trying to appease your nerves, the liquid slide cool down your throat and you savor the citrusy flavor on your tongue thinking "it's good. it's all good. I will cut that Dave bullshit out of my life and everything will be great"

The rest of the afternoon passes pleasantly, you drink another margarita while chatting with your friends, you grab some snacks from the buffet so you don't risk forcing Jane to hold your hair in the bathroom, and you feel like you have regained some mental stability.

Dave is still here, looking like the perfect picture of a man trying to spend quality time with his beloved wife.

They talk to neighbors, they laugh, she holds a hand in his tracing small concentric circles on his back.

All smooth, I can't believe it, you sigh as you finish your second margarita.

Ms. Horowitz goes between tables to tell you that anyone who wants can take advantage of the pool, all your friends thank her saying they will do so shortly, and you reply, “Oh,I don't have my bathing suit with me,” wondering if anyone has ever told you to bring it. From the way Jane looks at you with an amused expression you guess that yes, she had told you but you completely forgot in your frenzy to look good in front of Dave in your new shoes.

Being in a bathing suit in front of him is not something you could afford to contemplate and you can't do it now either so you try to shy away from her invitation as politely as you can, but Mrs. Horowitz presses you, “that's no problem, dear, we have dozens of bathing suits for our guests!”

“Of course. I forgot that if they wanted to they could swim in a pool full of money like Scrooge McDuck.”

At this point you can do nothing than accept.

Carlos and Rafael managed to disengage under the guise of joining Mr. Horowitz and other neighbors in the living room to watch whatever is going to be on the sports channel. And these are the moments when you wish you were someone who knows about sports.

“You can go to the pool house and change there, you will find swimsuits and towels in the closet,” Mrs. Horowitz chirps.

And so you do, you head for the pool house teetering on your new heels, thinking maybe you shouldn't swim at all because you're feeling a little tipsy.

“God, I really don't feel like it,” you say to Susan who is beside you, and she replies, ”oh come on, it will be fun!”

You already hear some splashing coming from the pool as you enter the little house.

It is luxuriously furnished like a real outhouse, there is a huge bed, a small kitchen, and a door on the right side that leads to a bathroom. Someone could actively live in here like a king.

Susan opens the closet that takes up the entire wall in front of the bed and finds dozens of bikinis and one-piece suits. “Jesus, they could open a swimsuit store with all this stuff.”

You laugh, tapping her on the side “make room” Susan pinches your arm “rude!” she sneers.

Emma, Jane and Gabrielle laugh. You choose a swimsuit as they take turns to change into the bathroom.

____________________________________

You walk out of the pool house wearing a black bikini, holding the towel wrapped around you. You chose the simplest model you could find that wasn't a one-piece swimsuit, because you always thought you looked like your grandmother in those.

You don't want to stand out but neither do you want to feel ridiculous at the idea of Dave seeing you.

You hope he has already gone home until you reach the pool and see him diving off the small diving board located on one of the short sides.

By now it's evening so several strings of small lights have been lit and hung directly above the pool like small fireflies floating in the air and scattered over the buffet and beverage gazebos.

There are also several garden street lamps around, but the small lights create an enchanting atmosphere.

Mr. and Mrs. Horowitz really know how to throw a great party.

Dave's back looks golden as you watch him disappear into the water, his muscles outlined by the play of light and shadow that refracts against them. You bury a howl inside as you steal a glance at his butt swaddled deliciously in red swimming shorts.

You sit on a lawn chair, fully intending to stay there, while your friends put their towels down and go for a dip in the pool.

It's still warm for fall, today in particular, so you don't mind the thing itself, but showing yourself to Dave like this? That's a whole other matter.

The whole neighborhood is there but you literally feel like only he can see you, because that's the only look you care about and might feel judged by.

Your friends wave at you from the other side of the pool, even calling your name so you listlessly drop the towel on the deck chair and walk to the edge, wetting your feet in the cool water.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Dave go underwater, you follow his movements, and see him come up right in front of you.

“Fuck” you think

“Hi,” he says in a low voice as you wonder where his wife is. You answer him by mumbling a “hello” as you look around for her. Carol is sitting on a lawn chair, wearing a white one-piece bathing suit and matching sarong, and sipping cocktails with one of your neighbors. She is quite distant and seems very engrossed in the conversation, so you finally allow yourself to look at Dave.

He's still in the water, leaning against the edge below you.

He runs a hand through his hair to pull it back, small droplets sliding down his perfectly chiseled jaw to the column of his neck and down his broad chest until they die at the water's edge.

Your friends call your name loudly as he rests both hands on the edge and rises effortlessly beside you. You don't look at him, you keep your gaze fixed on Jane and the others as you hear the sound of water sliding over his body and falling back into the pool, a few drops hitting you in the process. He is beside you, completely wet, wearing only shorts. You’re petrified, trying to govern your emotions and especially your facial expressions “stay calm stay calm stay calm” you repeat to yourself as you hear his voice whisper “you look so fucking sexy in that bikini. I wish I could fuck you right here right now” just before he walks over to the loungers.

He didn't turn around, he didn't make eye contact with you, no one would say he even noticed you, and he spoke so softly that no one could have heard him but you. You heard him loud and clear, and his rough voice went and settled directly between your legs on your wet pussy.

You hastily dive into the pool feeling your cheeks on fire.

“Fucking Dave and his fucking flirting.”

_________________________________________

First thing you do when you come home is to take off your shoes throwing on the carpet in your living room.

By now you are no longer tipsy; swimming in the pool has definitely helped you get sober again.

And Dave.

Dave who ignored you pretty much the rest of the evening but infiltrated your brain like a disease.

You know you can't get your hopes up, you know that this thing between the two of you will have no future, and you also know that you don't like being a home wrecker.

I am just an escape from his marriage, a sleazy adventure, a little toy to entertain him.

And yet, you still want more.

Your body unfortunately doesn't care about morality right now, it reacts to every image of him imprinted in your mind, Dave is Pavlov's bell and you are the drooling dog.

Lingering in fantasies about him hurts, but there is a desperate part of you that still feels his hips grinding against yours, the taste of his tongue, the warmth of his big hands on you.

And his body next to yours when he got out of the pool, how you could smell the scent of his skin mixed with chlorine, how you could still feel the warmth of his body despite being completely wet, water dripping down his legs pooling at his feet.

You can stay here a little longer, just a little while longer without hurting anyone, before you turn the page.

You shuffle into your room with your head in the clouds, open your night stand drawer almost without thinking, pull out your dildo and lie on the bed. You loop your dress around your waist without even bothering to take it off, just enough to get rid of your bra and your panties.

You let the dildo glide over your body, shivering at the feel of the cool plastic on your tits, brushing against your nipples.

The low rasp of his voice still in your mind, graveling like an echo in your brain “you look so fucking sexy in that bikini”

It was the first time you saw him like that, you happened to see some exposed skin as he mowed the lawn, even lifting up his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead once he was done but what you saw today? Nothing compares with it.

His fully exposed torso, the darting muscles of his back as he dove, how his arms flexed as he leaned over the edge of the pool. There is something obscene about seeing people completely wet, a primal instinct awakening, the water slipping and hugging the curves of his body, the droplets of water glistening on his skin, the wet shorts glued to his body that barely suggested the shape of him.

You shut your eyes and suddenly it’s his cock wiping on your hardened buds, tip slapping and teasing, brushing on your skin just right, red and swollen and already leaking.

You can think it’s real, it feels so real, his hand roaming on your body, pulling your dress up, get it out of the way to dispose of you as he wants.

Big strong hand gripping on your inner thighs, his fingers rising higher on your skin, making you whimper in anticipation.

Your cunt aching tremendously, unrestrained and starving.

His big cock grazing your swollen labia, parting them and then sliding entirely over your center, his tip slamming against your clit, mingling your essences in an overwhelming arousal that runs through you all.

And then he pushes inside, deeper and deeper in the most intimate part of you.

And that’s it.

You are fucking away all your bad omens, lying to your hands sinking into the flesh of your thighs, your heart pounding behind your ribcage, your hips swaying against the rubber dildo, pushing them away to suppress them. All frenzy and delirium as it is his cock kissing your cervix, stretching your walls, pulsing and dripping inside you.

You can’t stop, angling the dildo so that it brushes against your swollen clit pumping incessantly into your core, creaming the entire length of your dildo, your legs obscenely spread, your body torn apart by every thrust, your hungry pussy sucking in, contracting, devouring every inch without finding peace.

"I wish I could fuck you right here right now"

Your free hand rises on your tit, your fingers latched on your pebbled nipple, pulling and twisting until you feel your brain leaking from your pussy.

Your orgasm breaks inside you, vibrating in and out of your body, quivering on your sweaty skin, taking your breath away. You come thinking of him completely wet from head to toe on top of you, your flesh colliding, your bodies merging, in a desperate, relentless rush toward the brink.

And you can't get enough, so you don't stop as the first orgasm washes over you, your swollen, slippery cunt keeps frantically gripping around the dildo, your hands keep thrusting it in, torturing your nipples, it's like you're trying to quench your thirst once and for all.

The way he ignored you afterward makes you want to have him even more, to break through his stoicism and trigger an outburst in him as much as your own.

It's twisted, wrong, immoral and you don't care a bit. 

You fall into a deep sleep, having come repeatedly, Dave being all that's left in your head.

______________________________________

Morning light flutters on your eyelids forcing you to open your eyes to another day.

You grunt, feeling your incredibly aching pussy, and realize your dildo is still inside you.

The stretch is here to remind you your guilt, the frenzy that took you last night, the feeling of being just one inch away from slipping into something dangerous.

You pull it out cautiously, feeling your essence slip out of you, soaking your inner thigh, the sticky mess of your desire for him dribbling silently over your skin.

Your pussy tightens around nothing, pulsing to the void, deprived of something, swollen and tried.

The dress from the night before is still crumpled around your body, crumpled and damp with your sweat and arousal at the hem. You get out of bed feeling like a rag doll, drag yourself into the bathroom and look in the mirror. Mascara has run down your cheeks, your lipstick smudged, an exhausted and defeated expression on your face.

You look like a total disaster, matching your feelings.

This morning, in the sunlight, you are furious with yourself. Why did you let this married man condition you so much? You spent $350 on a pair of shoes just because he told you they'd fit you, what the fuck is wrong with you?

You have to stop before it takes a turn for the worse and you find yourself crying for him.

There's no way it will end well.

You take off your makeup, take a shower, and change into a pair of sweatpants and an old Pearl Jam T-shirt you got at a concert a million years ago.

You clean and tidy your house, then Jane calls to have your confirmation to meet at 3 p.m. at her house.

Having a fun afternoon with your friend will help, you think.

You don't look out the window toward his house even once, you simply pretend it doesn't exist.

After changing into a pair of jeans and a white top, you head towards Jane’s house at the end of the road, your eyes straight to her house without your usual wandering and sneaking through your neighbor’s windows.

You are able to shut down your brain concentrating on poker and your friend and it all goes smooth until you hear Susan say, “Did Edie call you to gossip about the Yorks?” And you all turn to look at her, you with your heart leaping in your chest like an acrobat.

“Really? Was it only me who had this pleasure?” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Why, what happened?” Jane asks as she shuffles the cards for the next hand.

“According to her, Dave has an affair. But you know how Edie is, I mean-”

"And how can she say that?" Gabby widen her eyes, getting all excited. You love her dearly but she’s almost as gossipy as Edie sometimes.

"She says Dave disappeared at the party and then came back with some lipstick on his mouth."

“What?” you all exclaim, as you try with all your might to feign surprise.

“Yes, and then she says Carol pretended nothing happened but according to Edie there is something going on because you know - she says that lipstick seemed slightly different from the one his wife was wearing”

“Well that also depends on lips natural color,” Jane tries to intervene, usually she's the one who instead tries to quell the rumors. You are thankful that she maintains her attitude even now, all while your other friends cut her off squeaking “oh my God!” And Gabby, who sits right next to you put a hand on your arm “Jesus, can you believe that?”

“Actually no” you shrug “I mean…they seem so close-hearted”

“Well, honey, I'm sorry to tell you but not all that glitters is gold” Gabby scoffs.

“Even if it was true - and with Edie I wouldn't put my hand on it because she was really tipsy and then well...she's Edie” Jane admonishes “it's none of our business”

“God, he would be such a scam though. And to think I kinda considered him incorruptible” Emma sighs and you all nod.

You never mentioned your crush, not even to the friends.

No one ever saw you two talk for more than a few minutes and only of mundane arguments, totally out of courtesy and being good neighbors.

Fuck. It has to end before anyone finds out.

The bullet missed you by a whisker but you know you can't play with fire.

“Then you wonder why I haven't found another boyfriend yet!” You playfully snap, just to look more unsuspicious.

You hate lying to your friends, but you are relieved when you see them nodding.

Jane urges, “Come on let's play, we've talked enough about this.”

The afternoon flows nicely, Jane and Gabi argue over points as usual, you all laugh, and by the end you feel better, really better.

Yesterday was crazy, but I can get through it, you think.

When you get home you order a pizza and eat it on the couch watching a horror movie. You don't think about him for the rest of the evening, until you get under the covers and a flashback of him pushing you against the bathroom tiles flashes before your eyes. You squeeze them hard, trying to banish the image from your mind.

________________________________________

Monday morning at the office hits you in the face, you have a lot of work to do but you've never been so happy to keep busy so you don’t complain. Anything goes as long as you don't think about him.

Your agency has just acquired a big client for whom you'll have to manage a marketing campaign, there's a lot of pressure but by the end of the morning you feel like you and the rest of the team have come up with the right idea, which makes you relieved.

At lunchtime you go out to get a sandwich. It's a beautiful sunny day, there’s a little wind that caresses your face and moves the tree canopies along the road. You're glad you've been able to focus, you really care about doing a good job and making a good impression on your demanding boss in light of a promotion you'd like to get.

You will slowly return to your usual life and what happened will remain a sporadic episode without consequences. That's the best thing for everyone.

You walk into the diner and get in line to order a sandwich.

You greet Sarah, the girl at the counter, with whom you've been chatting since the first day you were hired at your agency.

You order the usual and come out humming and feeling some lightness at last.

You walk the short distance to your office, and the moment you push the door open you feel a gaze on you, like in déjà vu. You turn to look at the street, and see no one, just a black car that takes off quickly, speeding down the empty road. For a moment it looks like Dave's. You blink your eyes and shake your head, feeling lost.

It's like you've taken one step forward and three steps back.

It will take much longer to eradicate him from your mind, and living in the same neighborhood across the street from each other certainly won't help.

You come home tired, you managed to do a good job despite the thought of Dave that kept pounding in your head all afternoon, at least you can be satisfied with that.

You park in your driveway and out of the corner of your eye you see Carol loading suitcases into a cab.

Shit, what's going on? Was Edie right? Did they really have a fight? Is she leaving him?

You start toward your door but then stay on the porch pretending to rummage through your purse for your keys.

You see Dave leave the house with his daughters, he helps Carol with the heaviest suitcase and they briefly say something you can’t hear. You hold your breath for a signal, something that will let you know what they’re doing, but it all seems neutral, calm, no drama, no screaming fight in the middle of the street. Typical of them, you think, they would never do that in front of their daughters anyway.

Molly and Alice hug their father and happily get into the taxi, sitting in the back, Alice holding a doll which she places next to her on the seat.

Carol kisses Dave on the cheek and climbs into the cab with the girls. As you watch them leave your mind is filled with question marks, it didn't seem like a traumatic departure but you know they are the best at keeping up appearances. And deep down, what do you really know about Carol and Dave? What really happens when the doors are closed and they are far from the rest of the world? Are they really the perfect family they pretend to be?

Dave is on the sidewalk waving to the cab pulling away, as soon as it's far enough away he turns to look at you and winks.

Series tag list:

@penascigarette @syd-djarin @almostempty @aurorawritestoescape @joelalorian @milla-frenchy @baronessvonglitter @cas-readsandwrites @sunnytuliptime @foreveratlantica-blog @peppermintfury @drewharrisonwriter @indiegirlunited @darkheartgatita @untamedheart81 @missladym1981 @rosebuds-and-moonlight

If you want to be added or removed, just let me know, thank you so much for reading ♥️

[whiskeyghoul]

Hi!! I have huge baby fever rn (mainly for Spencer) and was wondering if you would do dad!Spencer or spencer x pregnant reader, just fluff bc I love Reid. Feel free to ignore it you don't want to :)

The playground || [dad!Spencer Reid x f!reader]

A/N: Thanks for the request. Spencer would be an amazing dad so this was fun to write. Though also a bit of a challenge. I hope you enjoy it. Also look at me adding more pictures. Doing the most out here.

Tags: fluff, pregnancy mention, dad Spencer, reader has a daughter, using children to trap your significant other, no y/n.

Word count: 1.2K

It was early spring as you sat on the park bench. Still wrapped up in many layers of clothing to keep warm in the chill of the afternoon. The sun shone with a warm glow, making the exposed skin of your face heat up ever so slightly. A sigh of content escaped your lips as your eyes fell closed for a second. Enjoying the calmness of the moment that was joyfully interrupted by high pitched laughter that was practically music to your ears. Blinking your eyes open they landed on the little, 4 year old girl who was running around the playground structure being chased by the man you called yours. It had been your idea to head out that day to the park and enjoy the first rays of the spring sun. There had also been something keeping you busy. Spending time outside always makes you calm again.

Spencer was slightly bent down, trying to catch your little girl in a game of what seemed to be tag. A smile split your face as you watched his hair get ruffled by the wind as he almost caught your daughter, she skillfully dodged under the slide and out of his reach with a shriek. Samara, who looked so much like her father with the messy brown curls, big brown eyes that you would do anything for, and that smile full of joy. But her nose was yours, and the shape of her face, and oh that personality, she was mom’s girl after all. She took after you in the way she responded to people, she was kind, gentle and smart. Spencer scooped her up and you watched her writhe in his arms while laughing. “I got you! There’s no escaping now.” He laughed before spinning round and round. “No! Put me down!” She called between laughs and shrieks, her small, red scarf flapping around in their wake. You laughed at the sight, brimming with joy and love for them. 

Spencer stopped spinning, he looked in your direction and you watched his chest heave slightly with each breath he took. The smile that crossed his face was blinding. You watched him crouch down, putting Samara on her feet and he got to eye level with her before whispering something inaudible to her. She nodded her head, a look of determination in her eyes as she wiped some of the stray curls out of her face. They were definitely plotting something. You got up from your seat with suspicion settling into your stomach. Something in you said it would be better to be upright and standing instead of in your seat. Spencer nodded his head and Samara came bounding over to you with Spencer in tow. There was a matching look on both their faces, one of feigned innocence. “What’s going on?” You asked, giving a sideways glance. “Oh, nothing.” Spencer answered as he snaked his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek gently. Warmth spreads through your body just from his touch, the butterflies still never left.

He pulled away and you watched him nod towards your daughter who full force tagged your leg, “You’re it.” She grinned as she ran away. Spencer’s arms around you left as quickly as he had pulled you close as he ran in the opposite direction from Samara. You gasped, standing in place as you had realized their plot to envelope you into their game of tag. Spencer being the distraction for your daughter to sneak up and tag without your complaint. “That’s playing dirty!” You exclaimed though the smile on your face betrayed your feigned upset. You quickly ran after Samara, knowing that their tactic of splitting up made you choose between who to go after first. Your daughter, with smaller legs, would be your first target. Already planning how to convince her to join in capturing Spencer later on. 

Quickly catching up to the four year old was easy enough, letting her escape a few times to make it more fun for her. She clambered over different playground items, using her small stature to her benefit. She crawled into one of the tunnels, following close behind you finally caught up to her. Once you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close she let out another “Nooo!! Mom!!” while laughing as you kissed her cheeks repeatedly. “You’re it!” You said as you waited for her to stop squirming. The weight of her in your arms was absolutely right. She was getting bigger every week it seemed.

“You want to help me catch dad?” You whispered once she settled down. The competitive streak that you have clearly had rubbed off on her as she nodded her head yes. She clearly didn’t frown upon double crossing her dad if it meant winning at tag. “Do I need to tag dad again?” She asked, eyes big, voice soft and hushed just in case Spencer was close to hear. “Actually, I want you to distract him.” You responded with a smile, “Can you go up to daddy and tell him you’re going to be a big sister?” You asked her in a hushed tone. Samara’s eyes went wide and a grin broke out on her rounder face, “I am?” she asked surprised and excited at the same time. In turn you nodded your head yes.

You had found out three days ago, while Spencer was away on a case and when he had returned last night it wasn’t the right time to tell him. Now, using your first born daughter to tell him and to win a game of tag, that was the perfect time to tell him. “Go on, tell him.” Your arms unwrapped from her and she quickly scrambled out of the play tunnel calling for her dad. You crawled out with some struggle, crossing your arms as you watched as Spencer once again picked up the little girl. You dusted off your pants and jacket as you walked towards the two of them.

“What is it, princess?” Spencer asked, looking quizzically at her perhaps thinking you plotted against him. “I’m gonna be a sister! I’m gonna be a sister!” Samara spoke sing-songey as she settled in his arms. Spencer’s eyes widened and his head shot up to look at you. Eyes full of questions and surprise, the gears in his head going a 1000 miles a minute as he processed the news. Trying to decide whether it was real or not. You walked closer, a gentle smile on your lips as you kissed his cheek. “Are you-?” He asked hushed as you pulled away. “Yes, I am.” you whispered back earning you a kiss on the lips. Filled with joy, happiness and warmth. The butterflies in your stomach would probably not settle for the rest of the day. 

You pulled away from the kiss gently, your hand reaching up and you pressed your finger to his chest. “And…” You watched him as he looked at you with baited breath, hanging onto every word that would come out of your mouth. Your lips curled into a smirk.

“Tag you’re it.” 

[tonowarii]

can we have light nsfw with spider x human!reader and they are like making out and spider (being the teenage boy he is gets handsy) one thing leads to another and there just exploring each others bodies not really knowing what there doing since they’ve never been to earth and never been taught about it but they just have that sexual feeling and later reader tells jake? or norm? about it and they sit reader and spider both down and explain to them and tell them they have too be careful when they get feelings like this for one another.🤭🤭

SORRY IF THATS ALOT TOO ASK FOR BUT I NEED MORE SPIDER LOVE THERES TOO MUCH SLANDER ABOUT HIM IT HURTS MY HEART RHIS MIGHT OFFENDED PEOPLE BUT HES MY FAVOURITE AND IM ASHAMED TO SAY IT YA HEAR ME🧏🏾‍♀️🧏🏾‍♀️🧏🏾‍♀️🧏🏾‍♀️🧏🏾‍♀️🧏🏾‍♀️

my hearttttt 😩💕 tried to make this as wholesome as possible, hope you liked it!

tag: @liyahsocorro

Code Blue

Spider Socorro x GN! Human! Reader

wc: 1.2k

warning/s: mature themes but nothing too explicit, kissing and touching, spider and reader are both 18! and somebody catches them in the end 🤣

You and Spider had the lab all to yourselves.

That wasn’t too great of an idea considering you two were teenagers, who were in a relationship, and now having time to yourselves and being left with your reckless selves… well- it was a mess.

“So..um..” You spoke up, the silence was getting the best of you. “Hm?” Spider perks his head up at you while he was inspecting some writings on the table.

“Do you want to do something…?” You ask Spider. “Maybe go outside, play a game or two…?” As you heard yourself, you suddenly found it stupid, but hey, you’ve got nothing to do.

Spider tilts his head, eyes squinting in thought.

“I want to try something.”

That sentence alone made you nervous, but what got your heart beating is that Spider was now in front of you, looking at you. “What’s that?” You gulped.

Spider found himself backing you until the back of your legs hit the edge of the table, making you gasp. “Spider, what are you planning?” You asked nervously.

He gulps. “Can I..?”

You did not know what was coming, but you didn’t refuse.

Spider then hoists you up, making you jump as it only aided him in sitting you upon the table. “Spider!” You gasp as he laughs, placing his forehead against your shoulder. “Sorry.”

Then only you realized the awkward position you two were in. You were sat on the table, your legs pressed on his either side while he was pressed up against you, making you blush and an unknown feeling bubble up in your gut.

Unbeknownst to you, Spider could feel the same feeling pooling in his gut as he has his forehead pressed onto your shoulder. With a daring move, he softly lays a kiss on your shoulder, making you shiver at the new feeling.

“Spider…” You whisper, making him pull away and look at you. Your unreadable expression made Spider almost regret his actions. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ He was about to pull you back to stand when you shake your head, using your hands to tug him back close to you.

“Kiss me.”

It looked like the two of you were taken aback from what you just said as the two of you stared at each other in silence, your heart booming in your chest, afraid that you just pushed your limit.

Spider then slowly inched closer, closer, and closer until your faces were inches apart. “Okay.” He spoke in a low voice, almost a whisper.

Then you found yourself closing your eyes when his mouth met yours.

The two of you weren’t exactly skilled in this, you’ve only ever kissed a few times and it was just simple pecks on the lips, or on the cheek and forehead in the span of your relationship. And you never even kissed outside the lab because of your damned exopacks.

But now as his lips longed on yours, you found the feeling exciting, placing your hands on his cheeks, pulling him closer, slowly kissing him back.

It was hard finding a good rhythm at first, but the second you got in tune with him, it felt like you didn’t want to part any time soon. You both found yourself taking quick breaths before being on each other again.

Then you felt Spider’s hand, that was safely placed on either side of you on the table, start to move on their own accord. Slowly, his hands climbed up to your hips, then to your waist, up your sides, then back down on your waist, his one hand giving a soft squeeze making you gasp into the kiss.

“Damn…” You hear him whisper through the kiss as you laugh, suddenly feeling shy as you pulled away, looking at his hands on your waist. You only realized how much Spider had an effect on you. It was irresistible as you found yourself pulling him close again, bringing your lips back together, now it was your turn to have your hands on him.

Only then you felt how strong his body was, how his muscles tensed under your touch, how his biceps felt, down to his toned chest and stomach due to his nature of climbing and running. You could feel Spider take a breath, his stomach muscles flexing under your touch, now you transferred your hands to his chest.

Your lips were locked, getting hotter by the second as the feeling in your gut only grew, you didn’t know what was happening, but you only knew Spider was easing the pain. You sigh, nails digging onto Spider’s torso, making him wince slightly.

Pulling away from him, you took the time to catch your breath, so did he. Both of you were staring at each other, panting. His hands were now positioned behind your hip, giving a gentle squeeze as his eyes were wide.

“Uhm... wow.” He breathes out, absolutely drunk in love as he stares at you, goofy grin on his face. “I-“ You spoke, the both of you were rendered speechless, but what happened was still implanted on your mind.

“Do- do you feel it too?” You ask out of the blue; you weren’t even sure if Spider got what you said. But his answer proved he did.

“Y-yeah… its- it’s weird.”

You blush. “M-maybe we could do it more some-“ Spider was about to say when he was interrupted by a door opening.

“Hey guys, we’re back- Woah, woah , woah hey!” Both of you jumped at Norm’s voice as he saw the position you two were in. “Oh my god!” Norm said, his eyes screwed shut as the two of you fix yourselves, you hopped off the table, standing upright with Spider beside you, embarrassment now replaced the unknown feeling.

“Guys-“ Norm said, now opening his eyes to find the two of you standing awkwardly. He facepalms, muttering under his breath. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to give the talk, its 2172 for goodness’s sake.”

You and Spider look at each other curiously, before turning your eyes back on Norm.

“Hold on, I can’t do this on my own.” Norm said, leaving the shack.

Now the two of you were sat in front of Jake and Norm. Jake was complaining why he had to get dragged into this, but Norm only said, “It’s your kid too, man!”

The embarrassment was still planted in both you and Spider.

“Okay, first off, guys. What you two were doing is fine, its normal, everybody has done it in their lives, even back on earth.” Norm explained as the two of you stayed silent.

“But you guys must know your limitations, okay? So how do I begin this-“

After that long lecture from Norm and Jake, who only participated by adding jokes to make things lighthearted, you and Spider now find yourselves outside to get some fresh air after that whole ordeal.

“I can’t believe that happened!” You groan, covering your face, or mask, in your hands. Spider laughs, holding your hands so he could pry them away from your face.

“I mean, at least we learned something new, right? We know what that feeling’s called…” Spider said, trailing off. “I guess…” You sigh.

Spider holds your hand in his, smiling cheekily at you. “But earlier was amazing. Y’think we could do it again sometime?” This boy and his hormones! All you could do was laugh and shake your head.

“Sure, unless we get caught by Norm again.”

[apomaro-mellow]

Two in the Bush 6

Part 5

Eddie was pretty gung-ho about the shower preparations while Billy seemed mostly ambivalent to it, which was expected. Eddie was really excitable while it was rare to see Billy get pumped for anything outside of the typical alpha stuff. Belatedly, Steve realized he should have put that on his list of things for Billy to work on and wondered how he could get him to do it.

“We gotta get this!”, Eddie came from a rack of clothes and held up a black onesie with a flaming guitar on it.

“Where did you even find that?”, Steve asked, stopping the cart.

“From the super badass baby section”, Eddie said as he tossed it into the cart.

There was no way in hell Steve was letting his baby wear that. Babies should wear soft things in bright colors with cute characters. But at least Eddie was thinking about what his future pup would wear. A stark contrast to Billy, who looked like a kid being dragged around, glowering, arms crossed.

“Isn’t the point of a baby shower that people buy this stuff for us?”

“They will, but we should get a few things ourselves”, Steve said.

“Yeah and no one’s gonna buy this for us!”, Eddie held up a little baby beanie with soft felt horns on top.

“Seriously, where are you finding this stuff?”, Steve asked, shaking his head but unable to hide the smile on his face. 

Billy watched the two of them go back and forth over what a pup should and shouldn’t wear and despite it being an argument, neither seemed particularly upset or frustrated with the other. They almost seemed like they were having fun. Billy had been stuck on it for the rest of the shopping. They brought it back to Steve’s place and for now, kept the clothes in what would eventually be the nursery.

“Yeah, I can see my vision now”, Eddie said, hands on his hips as he looked around. “We’ll put the mural on this wall, I’m thinking a dragon in flight over a village. Over there’s where we’ll have the speakers and tape deck. Nothin’ puts a baby to sleep like some Megadeth.”

“I know you’re joking. But it’s still a no”, Steve deadpanned. “I’m gonna order a pizza. Maybe between the two of you, you guys can figure out some real nursery decor.”

He walked out, leaving the two alphas alone. Eddie continued to survey the room. So far, it only had a dresser. The crib was still in Steve’s room for now.

“How do you do that?”, Billy asked, although it sounded like he did so through gritted teeth.

“Hm? Do what?”, Eddie asked back.

“You disagree with him, argue with him but it’s never-you never escalate or blow up at each other. Are you just playing a game? Is that foreplay to you guys?”

Eddie chuckled and shook his head. “If you think that’s foreplay, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

“Fuck you.”

“Hey, hey, sorry dude, look, that was a legit question, right?” Eddie held his hands up. “It’s not really arguing it’s like…bickering, you know?”

“No I don’t.” Billy crossed his arms, prompting Eddie to elaborate.

Eddie leaned against the dresser. “It’s like, I’ll say things that I know will annoy him, but not make him mad. And it’s fun to watch him get worked up, isn’t it?”

It was fun to get Steve worked up. Made the sex good too. But Billy had never argued just for the fun of it. How was Eddie able to do it so easily? Eddie could see something warring inside of Billy and decided to throw him a bone.

“Look, it’s not hard. The next time something comes up, just neg him a little”, Eddie suggested.

“Hey, you guys want breadsticks with the pizza?”, Steve called out.

“Breadsticks fucking suck”, Billy replied.

Eddie’s face fell into his palms. He might need to write out instructions for this guy.

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

Billy got another chance when he was to tag along with Steve for his next appointment. It would have been all three of them, but Eddie had cars to work on. He and Billy had talked beforehand and Billy had written down Eddie’s points on a napkin to keep himself straight.

Don’t attack him directly

Annoy, not anger

Have fun with it

“Why are there all these rules?”, Billy questioned.

“They’re unspoken, but important”, Eddie had said.

He’d never felt this nervous when it came to Steve before. He was easy. Get him riled up a bit, fuck, rinse and repeat. But a pup was potential to be something new. And he didn’t want to lose Steve just because he couldn’t get with the program and evolve.

“Are you okay?”, Steve asked as they entered the clinic.

Billy had gotten pretty good at hiding his scent thanks to his childhood, so he must have slipped for Steve to be able to tell he was bothered by something. He shrugged before remembering him being emotionally stunted was a sticking point for Steve.

“Just wondering how you plan to let down Munson when we found out it’s not his.”

Well, Rome wasn’t built in a day after all.

Steve rolled his eyes. “So sure it’s yours, huh?”

Eddie’s words echoed in Billy’s head. “Sometimes, he’ll give you a real easy in. Something like a challenge. Go ahead and take it.”

Was that it? Was that an in? Should he take it? What should he say? Billy wondered if he could take the napkin out of his pocket without Steve noticing. Had it been too long for him to respond? It felt like he’d spaced out for too long. Steve’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to say something else, Billy inwardly panicking, when a nurse called Steve’s name.

They stood and Billy only felt half saved. Steve definitely noticed his pause. And the fact that Billy had yet to answer. They got set up in the room and the doctor did most of the talking, checking in on Steve’s health. Steve was just barely two months in, so they weren’t doing an ultrasound just yet. 

Steve replied to all the doctor’s questions and Billy felt completely useless and out of his depth. He kept his mouth shut for the duration of the appointment, even as they left and got back into his car. But Steve couldn’t keep up with the odd silent treatment anymore.

“Look, are you upset about what I said earlier?”

“What?”

“Because I know it’s probably a sore spot for an alpha to have some other guy ‘challenging his claim’”, Steve used air quotes and rolled his eyes but pressed on. “But I didn’t mean it like-well, we don’t know for sure whose it is, but I shouldn’t throw it in your face like that.”

Well, it wasn’t quite an in, but it was kind of an out, wasn’t it? It was better than admitting what was really on his mind anyway. So he took the easiest escape route.

“I was kinda serious. If it’s mine, how are you gonna tell Eddie?”

Steve sighed and looked out the window. “I won’t know what I’m going to say until we find out.”

Billy wanted to press for more. It felt like there was more that Steve wanted to say. But meeting up with Max reminded Billy that one of his problems was pushing too hard and too far. If Steve wanted to play it close to the chest for now, he’d let him. Their little nugget was barely a pile of beans right now. Besides, it gave Billy some time to think about how little he knew going into the clinic today.

After dropping Steve off and getting back home, he called up Eddie.

“You’ve reached the Munson residence, home of a future baby daddy.”

“You’re answering the phone like that?”, Billy snorted.

“Hargrove! I trust the visit went well?”

“Yeah, I guess.” The doctor and Steve seemed happy enough about it. But that reminded him of the idea he got on the drive home and what he could do about how he’d felt today. Something that both he and Eddie had to do.

“How much do you know about pregnancy?”, Billy asked, leaning against the wall next to his phone.

“Uh, peen goes in hole and pup pops out? Swollen ankles and weird late night cravings? ….Tender titties!”

“We’re going to the library”, Billy decided.

Part 7

[queenofallimagines]

Hiori yo x black reader

(A/N): was literally complaining bc like how is he black but there’s NO black readers??? But I found out who’s clogging up the blue lock tag😒And then I realized I can do it my fucking self lmao. HC him as Nigerian bc like we’re never gunna get any cultural background info on him bc they never tell us about the parents(unless it’s central to their backstory and even then they’re the main characters not their parents.) so I’m making up my own lore✨ his dad is Nigerian who immigrated to Japan and hiori very rarely sees his dads side of the family bc they live elsewhere and his parents don’t care about him knowing family he’s supposed to be their trophy

Hiori yo:

- okay so boom

- This happens in his blue lock era obviously

- His parents rarely let him play w kids bc he was always training if you peep in the manga

- Only has some idea of some form of cultural heritage

- He was blessed cursed with only his mothers genetics so looking more like her has him skirt around a lot of that racism

- He probably makes friends with all the other mixed kids but gets viscerally uncomfortable when he sees them getting micro-aggressed

- Makes him think twice about showing up to school with his hair not styled like his mom

- Spends 90% of his time gaming anyway so like he doesn’t have to go outside

- When he runs away to blue lock life starts to have color

- I think post U-20 arc he spends those two weeks at home hanging out with karasu because he’s not gunna let him sit inside and rot around his shitty parents for two weeks

- Karasu definitely introduces you to him

- You were one of his friends from school he used to chill with and he’s like you would be good for hiori

- Karasu 100% condones your bad influence like lmao he wants to see hiori be a MENACE to society

- He’s smirking in the background as you bring his inner ultra sadist out

- He messes up your hair and will laugh when you get mad

- “stoooop iiiiit you’re messing up my hair!”

- “aww does the princess not like their hair being touched?”

- “Not when I took a long time to do it this morning!”

- Will immediately get flustered if you say you like his hair

- hide the flat iron from him!!

- I feel like he’s lowkey insecure about usually being like the only black kid in the room

- And he speaks in a different accent than a lot of them?

- Yeah pack it up!

- *he doesn’t really think much of his appearance. he thinks he looks okay and he isn’t really confident about his skin complexion. he isn’t dark skin but he isn’t light skin either.*

- His chat Ai gave me that unprompted so it’s canon now sorry :/

- Yknow how boys will say the most traumatic shit out of nowhere?

- “do you really think that I’m pretty? even my skin complexion and everything?”

- “I sure do! Anyone who says differently is a colorist racist loser . There’s nothing wrong with you or your completion. Like you’re one of the only people who made me feel welcomed here are you fr?”

- Karasu is glaring at you though for having him make pale people jokes.

- He’s very lowkey about how snake like he is so he’s the “you can’t say that shit in public!” Friend, while you don’t care about getting cancelled😭

- “but please don’t let anyone the shade of printer paper make you feel bad about your melanin beloved.”

- “The snow roaches are usually too scared to try something because I’m tall:/“

- “WE ARE IN A CONNIVENCE STORE PEOPLE CAN HEAR YALL”

- he’s trying his best really but he’s just one crow😔

- Don’t let tea about his parents make it back to your ears bc it’s really on sight for that man AND that snow bunny 😡

- “Does your dad ever like talk to you about his culture?? does he say anything outside of trying to make you into some star striker??”

- Mf just shrugs his shoulders.

- “not really. my parents don’t care about anything other than my success. they don’t care about my happiness or how i feel..”

- “Yo, baby ….. imma beat your parents ass😐 is your dad Nigerian? Bc that feels like textbook immigrant parent behavior.“

- “……. I REALLY don’t like how you knew that.”

- “My next guess would have been Guyanese.”

- Hes giggling tho bc I don’t think he really talked shit about his parents w nobody like REALLY really

- Just watching them fight 24/7 as a kid took a toll on my poor baby soul IK

- Spoiler for his backstory but I mean not really??

- His parents saying that if he didn’t become the best they would get a divorce made my jaw hit the stairs of hell

- ““you really know a lot about this kinda stuff?,,,,but yeah, nigerian parents are hella strict. they expect high grades from us and if we don’t reach those high grades, we’re basically disowned..”

- See me personally I have tattoos, colored hair and piercings and my mom fresh off the banana boat carribean

- “Like Dr umar said “you will be never get freedom unless you take it” It’s like a hostage situation!”

- “Is that how you have them long ass acrylics?”

- “….I took it😙”

- He will never bring you home bc you’re always 5 mins from punching his mom in the mouth and he really cannot handle that especially when he’s gone 24/7 in blue lock and can’t talk to you

- They don’t know you but know you’re a bad influence so they hate you from afar

- Very pro “traumatize your parents back” and karasu right there w you

- He’ll he can even scoop up yukumiya to be on demon time👀

- “hit em with the “what if I stop soccer?” And they have nowhere to run but just sit there seething because they need you.”

- “Right the cards are in your hands.”

- “…..Respectfully love, you’re a whole ass delinquent and karasu you’re a scammer. I’m not taking advice from people with active warrants😐”

- Now back on my bullshit

- He be so fine when he use metavision

- Like he knows that if he glances over at you during one of his games he’s gunna find you squirming in your seat

- Looks at you after he scores a goal every time and flashes you that shit eating grin

- Win or loose he’s getting his dick wet!!

- Have a safe word

- He’s never gunna try to push you past your limits in a way that will hurt you

- Buuuuut he is pretty mean

- Imagine that cute innocent looking face smiling down at you with his round doe eyes

- Calling you a dumb slut

- Man is a menace and probably gets a higher sex drive the more he fucks

- Not even out of like lust overtaking him he just will be randomly thinking about how he had you on your knees in this very locker room before

- And now feels the strong urge to split you open on his cock

- It’s fun for him like a game

- And he always wins

- Only way you can get him is to outsmart him but like that’s once in a blue moon so good luck Charlie😅

- Mans is 6”1 so he’s effortlessly manhandling you and giggling at how much your body is screaming for him

- “Shit, ya keep squeezing me like that and I won’t be able to pull out.”

- Again because he dosent have a high libido as a carnal thing certain NORMAL shit will set him off

- Like you was talking about the weather now he has you bent over the couch??

- Nicknames would be one

- You call him blueberry and he’s ready to go

- The cute look on your face and the smile he can see that’s reserved for him

- The way he can same the hearts in your eyes when you look at him

- He wants to ruin you and make you cry

- Edging is his go too thing

- Will do it until your grabbing at his hands begging him to let you come and he’s laughing his ass off

- “Why? ‘S real funny seeing you this pathetic.”

- He’s very mean in that soft sweet condescending way that pisses you off

- “Ow! Yo that hurt!”

- “Mmm, don’t care.”

- Bites you all over like you’re a chew toy

- Feel like he’s tied with rin and shidou for leaving marks

- He’s a cheeky little bastard so he will have you in public looking like a mess and he couldn’t be more innocent standing right next to you

- “You good?”

- “Yeah,karasu I’m fine.”

- “You sure because you’re limping right now.”

- And this fucker is there like ☺️☺️☺️

- Weakness is distracting him while gaming

- He’s very whiney if you suck him off while he’s gaming and has vc on

- Like he’s barely holding back his whimpers and wines as you’re head is buried between his thighs

- (Rin , nagi and him def game like I know they play Minecraft together)

- “Oi, hiori you okay? You’ve been pretty quiet.”

- “M good.”

- He is fighting for his sanity!!

- Has locked the door a few times to keep you out

- Accidentally left the mic on when he thought the coast was clear and came HARD

- Rin will never EVER bring that shit up and is taking that secret to the grave

- Does get flustered when he sees you and hiori not-so-subtly sneaking off to have your hands all over each other

- Keeps that memory square in the back of his head to jack off to

- Hiori Yo is a very sadistic man with a lot of confidence

- So he has absolutely no qualms about fucking you in front of his teammates in the locker room

- Oh, the team walked in on him blowing your back out? Nothing is stoping them from showering and changing

- Shares you with isagi like that’s just what happens

- He wants to see the egoist be mean to you

- This has happened more than once and bastard München straight up knows if he’s nowhere to be found when they are heading back to the locker rooms

- He’s in there making you cry on his cock

- “Cmon, tell em how much you like creaming around my cock dollface.”

- Particularly of Kaiser is kicking attitude he’ll glare at him while you’re on your knees and dare him to try something

- Oh he don’t care about doing it in the pxg locker rooms either

- Shidou has unfortunately walked in on him sitting beside you on the ground pushing your head down so you can take Rin’s cock even deeper

- “Ne, Rin-Chan. Look at how I can see you in their throat.”

- Hiori if anything isn’t going to play by the rules or be fair about it

[stillsolo]

🚩🚩

send me a 🚩 and i’ll share my unpopular rpc opinions and hot takes.  bonus points if you include a specific topic to talk about, like follower count, softblocking, graphics, etc.

wow, okay!  this took me a lot longer to answer than i would’ve thought. nobody sent in topics ( which is okay! ) but without direction, my laidback attitude about everything ended up hurting me in the long run lmfao   but now i’m here!!  better late than never, eh?  tagging others who also sent in something, mainly because i’ve realized i’m chill and got nothing more to say than this it seems  @fifthdimensicn @lightburnsyou @techniiciian ( thank you for sending something!! )

i’ll preface this by saying i have nothing against anyone.   i am just a massive childhood star wars nerd, who basically learned english through the canon/legends movies, games, books, and writing fanfic etc.   so, i’m rather well read on star wars and have a tendency to be uhhh. autistic lol  stringent, for want of a better word, about the universe lore.   overall, i don’t care whether or not people agree; this is just a topic i lowkey struggle to understand yet see far too often.   why people willingly step into this paradox is beyond me!

anyway, if your muse is canonically a force-null in star wars, yet you create a serious, fleshed-out jedi verse for them, then i can’t help but think you don’t actually love your muse as much as you think you do.

of course, you’re totally allowed to have fun—i am not against fun; i’m actually all for breaking and bending verses to my will—and i understand getting bored with the same verses you’ve played in for years and years.   but when this reinterpretation becomes a serious endeavor—like, you’re really out here recontextualizing the entirety of star wars, including its characters, regardless of how ooc it would be to do so, just to fit this verse??   that’s where you lose me lol

for clarity: force nulls are simply people who are not outwardly force-sensitive, aka an individual who cannot consciously sense or interact with the force.   so, think han solo, padmé amidala, or even captain rex and the clones etc.   these are people who stand tall without the force, relying instead on their resourcefulness, resilience, and humanity.

i know the arguments.    i’m well aware some would argue that han and padmé could be considered “lowkey force-sensitive” in their own way, and i’m actually very inclined to agree—to a point.   these two do exhibit qualities that some might attribute to a higher-than-average midichlorian count: padmé’s marksmanship and her negotiation skills; han’s brilliant piloting and uncanny luck that often defies logic.   but yeah, that’s also the whole damn point—they’re exceptional because they lack the force, not in spite of it.

here, lemme use padmé as my primary example because i already know the concept of han being a jedi sounds absolutely absurd lol ( or at least it should if you know him at all 💀 )

let’s imagine a world where padmé is suddenly a jedi, wielding the force with all the grace of a trained knight.   it’s a pretty popular verse i’ve mostly seen outside of rp—and it’s utterly baffling to me.   sure, it’s an interesting twist, but it’s also a strange one.   why?  well, in my honest opinion: in making padmé overtly force-sensitive, you strip away everything that makes her outstanding.

she is extraordinary precisely because she isn’t outwardly force sensitive.  her ability to connect with people, her unparalleled empathy, and her deftness at negotiation are what sets her apart.  outward force sensitivity would rob her of these defining traits and generally diminishes her skillset—because the ability to sense emotions, to read others with an almost prescient understanding—is not a unique power, but rather one of the many force-given gifts jedi possess.  if padmé could sense others’ thoughts, how would her talents at diplomacy and empathy stand out?  just like that, what once set her apart would be merely an extension of the jedi arsenal.

the same applies to han!  this is why i’ve never written a force-sensitive han solo and likely never will.   his disbelief and distrust in anything he can’t see or feel for himself is paramount to his disposition / mentality as a character.   in the movies, he’s your taste of hard cynicism; he’s introduced as a reality check right after luke and ben’s floaty nonsense about the force.   ya feel me?   han solo is remarkable not because he’s imbued with mystical powers, but because he doesn’t have them.   he survives, thrives, and outsmarts the galaxy without supernatural powers to lean on.   to make han force-sensitive would be to strip away the very core of his character.

all in all, these characters, these force nulls, are extraordinary because they don’t rely on the force.   they are exceptional in spite of it, and i don’t really understand why anyone would make a concerted effort to take that away from them.

[circular-bircular]

I'm putting this blog to rest.

I'm done. I'm out. And god, is it a relief.

You might notice I'm posting this around the same time that SAS is posting a major post in an effort to light the tag on fire. I highly doubt it'll work, but it's the best attempt. Me and SAS are close. Nearly one in the same, some days...

You'll notice the end of the post says, "just wait for what happens next."

This is what happens next.

I'm deleting my syscourse blogs. Finally. No "maybe I will" or "I've been considering it." I've been considering it for a loooong time, and I've actually been intending on getting rid of Circular's-Reasoning for awhile now. I just... haven't had the energy to.

But now... My life is moving on. I'm moving on, quite literally, I gain possession of my new house... probably today when I end up posting this. I'm not sure, it's my first draft, we'll see how this goes. That's terrifying to realize. I'm like... an adult. I'm an adult who's craving good conversations about my disorder, about systemhood and how it's conceptualized, and more intricate parts of my selfhood. And... Syscourse just is not that.

I've done this sort of thing before, if you all know MotCR -- @memoriesofthecircularroom, for the uninitiated. That's the OG Circular Blog, and is an archive of the first few years of syscourse. But... Now, it's going to become a bit more. Here's my game plan.

I update MotCR to be the Circular Archive. Anything I think needs archiving -- good posts of mine, silly reblogs, or just good posts overall where I added something of my own -- will get reblogged there. It's gonna be busy for a bit.

In the meantime while I start that process, I answer any and all final questions/asks or drafts that've been in the works. I don't want to leave people hanging.

I delete a lot of blogs. And... I do mean a lot -- not even just the syscourse ones. Just the ones I think it's time to let go of.

I've often teased how many blogs I have. It's fluctuated wildly in the past. But here's the down and dirty. Here's what I own, and what I'm planning on removing.

@circular-bircular (Hi, Hello, You're Here)

@circulars-reasoning (Already planned to be gone awhile ago)

@systemquirks (I just don't have the energy to run it, and I'm so sorry for that)

@yourfaveissecretlysas (Yes, I am the one running that)

@system-confessions (Surprise! No name blog that barely exists, again, I don't have the energy)

@debunkingsyscourse (Look, I make these too easily)

@equalsys (Not sure how this is a shocker to anyone)

@ricejustdidthings (An old system-no-syscourse blog I have that I don't use anymore)

@my-systems-cringe (Been meaning to delete this for ages)

@circulars-answers (Unneeded)

And potentially one other, unnamed for now blog -- that's the one I've never told people I have outside of select discords...

So that's 11 blogs I'm getting rid of, potentially more. And that's with me still keeping 2 syscourse blogs and an 18+ system blog. Jesus christ.

It feels good to get it off my chest, though. It feels really good to be leaving.

"But Circ! Your posts make me happy!"

Fantastic! You can follow the new system blog I'm going to be making, @thecircularsystem (is that link working? I don't know, it's a brand new blog.)

Try this link out instead if that doesn't work!

I'm still going to be posting system related content there. I'm still going to be doing my normal random shit that I always do. I may even dabble in syscourse -- and definitely in sysconversation. I like that tag! But I'm not going to be doing syscourse nearly as often, and I'm going to try and stay out of that tag in search of reblogs and such. Too often, it results in me getting aggressive with someone, rather than just... spreading good information about systems, or existing online as I want to exist.

I just need a refresh. A new step, a big change. I'm moving on.

I really hope you all can too <3

[kyluxtrashpit]

AO3 Q&A

I wasn't tagged, I just stole this from some other fandom social circle cause it looked fun lmao

And my AO3, in case anyone is not aware

How many works do you have on AO3? 134

What's your total word count?

713,917

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Safe Harbour - kylux

Touch - kylux

Fractured - kylux

Powerless - kylux

Melt - kylux

(genuinely thought there'd be at least one non-kylux in there lmao as my top by hits is Kylo/KOR but oh well)

Do you respond to comments? Why/Why not?

I do! I used to be bad at it, cause it's hard sometimes to know how to respond to praise, but I really like showing my appreciation for the comments I get. People who comment are the people who keep fandom going. The only rare exception is occasionally I do get some weird comment I don't know how to answer (and it's like. It feels rude in some way but not overtly enough to yell at them for), but that's typically some fandom outsider and it's very unusual

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Hmm I usually do at least reasonably okay endings, like even if it's not happy it's hopeful. There is Nightmares, the one benpoe/darkpilot fic I've written that has kind of a gut-punch ending. I also have Gloves from my dragon age days that's a canonical assisted suicide as a modern au. I have a few others with open endings that could be a bad ending but that's why they're open, to let your imagination make it worse ;)

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

This feels difficult cause like I said, most of my endings are happy, or at least hopeful. I guess the one that's the most like, surprising in how it goes happy is Say It On Video? The trick makes it inherently schmoopier lmao

Do you write crossovers?

Not often, but I have. I think about them more than write them cause honestly it's a lot of work to wrangle everything lmao. I've done Ashes Among the Stars, a kylux and gundam crossover, and also that one time Kylo got facehugger-ed. There's also a wip from when I played Kylo in bg3 that may or may not get finished (post-game kylostarian hatefucking)

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really honestly? I got accused of plagiarism once because someone didn't realize emperor and hound is indeed a genre in kylux and not one persons fic lmao. If the accusation held weight, I would've addressed it, but it didn't in this case. I did get a weird comment on an original sci-fi horror thing I wrote a while back but tbh that was just someone who found the horror too horror-y so honestly it was kind of a compliment sdsld. But yeah I'm lucky, I haven't really gotten much that I can recall

Do you write smut?

Yep lmao. I like all ratings

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, closest I've done is doing big bangs and bouncing ideas off my partner(s), or going back and forth on headcanons with friends in dms. Both of which are super rewarding, but idk, I'm probably too much of a control freak to actually co-write lmao. I could see if I did rp and then publishing that, but idk if I could co-write. I don't even know how it works like from a mechanical pov

What's your all time favorite ship?

Bold of you to assume I could choose just one

What's a WIP that you want to finish don't think you ever will?

A couple of year ago, I would've said Under Construction lmao, but I finished that one... over a year ago now. Feels like it was way more recent than that. Idk, I have a lot of wips, many of which may never be finished and some of which have been abandoned for a long time. But none of them are like. Super special I guess. I'd love to finish them all. I hope I will, but idk

What are your writing strengths?

I think POV and characterization - I get compliments on this stuff most often too. Like really getting deep into a characters' head so the emotions can hit harder, and cause I write fic, accurate characterization is my number 1 concern so I'm happy that I consistently get compliments on that!

What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm a big fan of deep POV and very like. Interior writing, that's what I like and am good at, but that does I think limit me in terms of making a Big story. My stories tend to be more deep than wide and while I do like that, sometimes I wish I could do something longer or more expansive. Actually do some world-building, get a real cast of characters going. Something like Under Construction for example could've been easily twice the length if I'd gone into more with the Resistance or the villagers. Should it have been? Idk, maybe, people probably would've liked it more at least. I do like a smaller, more detailed story, but it would be fun to pull off something more expansive someday. If I'd done that though I'd still be working on it now lmao. I am happy with how it turned out, it was just one example. Most of my fics could be made bigger

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think it should be done correctly, I guess - for example, not doing bad, inaccurate stereotypes of bilinguals and stuff. Also I think translations should be provided, either in text (if the pov character understands it) or in the notes (if it's just extra flavour that isn't needed to understand the story as the pov character does)

Funny enough, I did have an idea for a Kylo/Ren/KOR fic where they all speak a language he doesn't and so a horny game of training him literally like a dog by using simple commands he doesn't understand but has to learn if he doesn't want to be punished, but that would require a lot of assistance lmao cause 1) I'm monolingual, 2) the only language I know even remotely well enough to attempt this with is russian and I don't know it THAT well by far, and 3) it's harder to find horny translations than non-horny ones so like. I would need an entire other human to assist me lmao. And I know plenty of people who speak multiple languages but like. I never wrote the rest of the fic either so let's just say it's very likely not happening skdlsdk

What's the first fandom you wrote for?

Technically it was Gundam Seed, some weird reader-insert thing with no romance at all, only suffering sdklsds. That was when I was like 14 though and it's gone from the internet as far as I know (a shame, I'd actually love to find it again, but the site it was on is gone). Then I didn't write for years until I went nuts over dragon age in 2014

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet, but want to?

Honestly I don't even know. At this stage I just want to feel The Urge again and just go absolutely insane over something lmao. I don't even care what tbh

What's your favourite fic you've ever written?

This is never an easy question, and I feel like I always default to 'whatever long thing I wrote most recently' lmao. And tbf I am going to do that again by saying Under Construction, but that one... may actually stay as the favourite for a long time or maybe even forever. Because it was so ambitious, it took me so long (nearly 4 years!!!) and it just. It's got a lot in it, a lot of emotions that I felt all throughout it's writing process, from 2019 through to 2023. There's bitterness and anger and frustration, but there's love and care and passion and just. I have a lot of feelings inside that fic okay lmao

There's one person whose comment included "This fic cares more about [Kylo's] character than the entire movie trilogy did" and it's like. Yes, yes, that's exactly the thing, that's the highest compliment you could give me, that's exactly where it came from. That fic is simultaneously my 95 theses nailed to canon's door, my manifesto directed at the fandom, and my love letter to the character himself as well as the ship. That fic is just so much to me and I really do love Kylo Ren as a character that much, it's honestly hard to describe how significant it is to me. I wonder if I'll ever be able to make anything with more of me in it than that fic

[end of questions]

Anyway, I stole this lmao but I'll still tag some people to keep it going @kylosbreedingkink @aptenodykes @eldritchmochi @iwishtocountthestars but if you see this and you want to do, you are also tagged, please make sure to @ me back so I can read yours!

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

christian cage x ex fem reader they started off having an affair. He bought her a really beautiful expensive diamond bracelet she hasn't taken off. He wants her back but she loves playing hard to get and making him jealous.

Diamonds are a girls best friend

Christian Cage X fem reader

Christian Cage Masterlist Main Masterlist

I was growing tired of the games Y/n was playing. There is only so much a man can do. At first, I thought she might have regretted what we did, maybe she realized what we did was wrong, did she fall out of love? All of these negative thoughts disappeared when I noticed she still wore the diamond bracelet I gifted her. She hadn’t taken it off since the day I gave it to her.

My little affair with Y/n began almost a year ago when I coudn’t hide my true feelings for her any longer. We had spent months on TV together acting like a real couple. We took our jobs seriously frequently making out on live TV. I knew all of this was wrong, I knew I shouldn’t be feeling this way about Y/n but I just coudn’t help myself. She was perfect. When I first suggested we have an affair I could she was hesitant. She knew it was wrong however the diamond bracelet changed her mind.

I can’t deny the rush I felt when I was with Y/n. All of this was so wrong that it was right. I adored every second of it. Recently there had been multiple times where we almost got caught, I feel like some people were starting to figure it out. That’s when Y/n stopped talking to me outside of work. Since we were paired together we still communicated but not in the intimate way we used to. Every time I tried to talk to her about it she just brushed me off, it drove me insane. I needed her, I was going crazy without her. I lay awake unable to sleep, missing her next to me. I was practically begging her to take me back, for what I have no idea.

Every time she said the same thing “I can’t, not right now”. I know what she meant by that. She coudn’t risk getting fired but she doesn’t understand the things she does to me. I swear she would flirt with the other talent in front of me to get a reaction. I was growing pathetic, I was practically begging on my hands and knees but I didn’t care. I dragged her into my locker room and locked the door behind me. “What are you doing?” She asked fear all over her face. “I can’t last another day without you,” I told her as I dropped to her feet. I handed her a stack of papers, they were divorce papers. “What is this?” She asked. “I’m getting a divorce. Why should I keep living a double life when I can live my true life with you” I told her as I tried to get under her dress. She ended up kicking me instead. “I don’t know what to say, Christian,” she told me. “Just say yes,” I told her. “Say yes to what?” She asked “Marry Me?!”

@brideofinfamy asked to be tagged!

[nekoannie-chan]

Fuck or treat

Fuck or treat

Title: Fuck or treat.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Steve Rogers X Reader X Brock Rumlow.

Word count: 830 words.

Rating: Mature.

Summary: Fuck or treat.

Major Tags: Smut, PWP.

A/N: This was requested by @saiyanprincessswanie.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

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It was the night of Halloween. Dry leaves were falling from the trees, as you were at home, getting ready to leave for a Halloween party you had been invited to. Although you weren't usually a fan of these parties, something about tonight had changed your mind. You needed to have a life outside of S.H.I.E.L.D.

As you walked down the stairs of your apartment to head to the party, your phone vibrated in your pocket. It was a message from an unknown number.

“Trick or treat. If you choose wrong, tonight will be your last.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was it a joke? Without much thought, you ignored it and kept walking. After all, it was Halloween.

You arrived at the party venue, an old mansion on the outskirts of town. Your friends were already there, drinking and dancing. As the night progressed, you began to relax a bit, until something caught your eye.

Through the bathroom mirror, you saw two tall, burly men walking toward the front door of the house. One was wearing a Captain America costume and the other, you couldn't make out until you paid attention to the way they were walking and that's when you realized they were Steve Rogers and Brock Rumlow, but.... what were they doing here?

You tried to convince yourself that you were hallucinating from all the alcohol you'd already had; you knew Rogers wasn't the type to come to these kinds of parties, but when you came out of the bathroom, they were both there, staring at you from across the room.

Suddenly, your phone vibrated again.

“You have been chosen. Trick or treat will be with you.”

Your hands began to shake. Something wasn't right. You tried to ignore it and moved closer to your friends, but when you turned around, Steve and Brock were already behind you.

“Trick or treat? “Brock asked.

You didn't know what to answer. Were they playing a game? Was it some sick joke or something much darker? Steve looked at you, but there was a grim glint in his eye.

“It's Halloween,” Steve said. Anything can happen on this night.

“You have to choose,” Brock continued, leaning closer, his warm breath brushing against your neck. Trick or treat.

You knew they didn't mean a simple candy. Not knowing what else to do, you decided to go with the flow, hoping it was a bad joke that would soon be over.

“Treat,” you said, with a lump in your throat.

Brock's grin widened, as Steve tilted his head, sizing you up.

“Good choice,” Steve whispered, taking your hand firmly.

Without giving you time to process what was happening, they both led you out of the mansion, into a dark corner of the garden. Your friends didn't even seem to notice your absence.

“Tonight, you're ours,” Brock murmured.

“We're not here to hurt you,” Steve assured him. But you should know that once it starts, there's no turning back.

Brock let out a low chuckle.

“Unless the trick is what you prefer,” Brock said, leaning over you, his lips inches from yours.

What was going on, how had you ended up in the middle of this? But, before you could process any further, you felt Steve grab your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“Just say it,” Steve whispered. If you decide to stop, we'll stop. But if you want to continue...” he left the sentence hanging, letting you understand what it implied.

You took a deep breath and, not really knowing what was in store for you, you finally said the words.

“I want to continue.

And with that simple sentence, everything changed.

Steve grabbed you around the waist, his lips taking hold of yours with a force.

At the same time, you felt Brock slide his hands down your back, pulling you to him from the other side. Each touch, each kiss, made you lose track of time and place.

Steve and Brock's bodies enveloped you, both wanting you and showing it in different ways.

Brock pushed you gently against a tree, his mouth descending your neck, while Steve held you, his hands exploring every part of you with a delicacy.

“This isn't a trick, honey,” Brock murmured, gently biting your earlobe.

“It's the deal you chose,” Steve added.

It was a dangerous game, and you knew it. But at the time, you didn't care. You were theirs, at least for that night, and you were willing to let yourself go.

Hours later, when the cold wind of the early morning woke you up, you found yourself alone in the garden. Echoes of the party still echoed through the mansion, but Steve and Brock had vanished as if they had never been there. Your body was still trembling from the sensations you had experienced.

You looked at your phone, expecting to see any messages, but there was only one new one.

“Thanks for the treat. Happy Halloween.”

[nestasgalpal]

Can't think straight when we are together Pt. 2 [Nessian smut]

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

Nesta’s Gal Pal masterlist | AO3

Tagging:@zoyaslai@champanheandluxxury@pataytayo@nessiantrashh@dustjacketmusings@saltydreamcollector@generalnesta@simpingfornestaarcheron@arinbelle@a-court-of-valkyries@azrielsgirl@swoopingoccamy@vasudharaghavan@vidalinav@sv0430@nessianforlife@claralady@sayosdreams@malluzia@dealfea@kylosmomm

A/N: Don't mind me, I'm just posting a second part to this a year after because I think I know what I want to do with this fic. It's been a year, so if you want to be removed or added to the tagging list, let me know, I just copied the one I had.

He had played well enough to celebrate the victory and mean it. It had been a great game. Tense, to say the least, but in a good way. The type of tense that pushed Cassian to do better. He was not the captain of the football team, Rhy was, but Cassian had been named MVP of the college league the last two seasons, and he planned on keeping the title this year as well now that graduation time was approaching and the draft peaked on the horizon. Preassure to give his all on the field was always welcomed. And if a certain pretty brunette showed up to watch, even if she was accompanied by some other dude, then his teammates could count on Cassian pushing himself to the limit.

Cassian slurred each syllable when he spoke, even if he wasn't drunk yet. "It's too hot in here, I need some air." Az only nodded. Not that the music being blasted through the speakers would have allowed him to be heard anyway. 

The crowd dancing in Feyre's basement, drinking and making out in the darkest corners of the room, forced him to use his elbows to push people in reaching for the stairs. Circumventing these college students proved as challenging as dodging some of his rivals hours earlier. Cassian tightly secured his red cup as he made his way up. Although Feyre's house was not their most frequent meetup place, Cassian had been in there enough times to know where each room was. To know the basement had a door to the garden behind the house, but if he instead used the stairs, he would find himself in the entry hall at the top.

So he went up, and just as he emerged in the predicted space, the front door was being opened by one of his best friends. Mor gave a squeak and jumped to hug him. "Congrats on the win, big boy!" Cassian hugged her back, and she had to go on her tiptoes so her arms could reach around his neck. He thanked her with a shit-eating grin. Both knew this had been one of his best games this season.

"Where were you? I was starting to think I would have to drain the keg all by myself." He joked, momentarily postponing his planned trip for this quick chat. 

"The cheer team had a pre-party I couldn't miss." Mor explained. Cassian didn't believed her, though, as most of the cheer team had arrived before him at the party.

"Excuse me." The soft voice behind them was followed by an even softer touch as Gwyneth Berdara slightly pushed his arm.

Only then did Cassian realize Mor and he were blocking the front door. He quickly let go of his friend's waist and took a step back, leaving enough room between the blond cheerleader and himself for Gwyneth to walk out. She did so without a word or a second look at them. The sudden panic taking over Cassian was enough to block the shame he should have felt instead. He saw the redhead reach for her phone as soon as she stepped outside, right before the door closed behind her. His widen his eyes went back to his friend, who seemed oblivious to the gravity of what had just happened. Only then did he notice who the varsity jacket Mor was wearing belonged to. A siren went off inside his head. Shit. Cassian hadn't noticed she was wearing his name and number. He had assumed it belonged to whatever player she had been screwing before coming to the party.

Surely Gwyn had noticed as well.

Shit.

"It that my jacket?" Obviously, it was. 

"Oh, yeah, sorry, I was cold and kept it. Do you want it back?" She offered it, but didn't take it off. She pouted, knowing he would let her keep it. It would be useless to ask for it now, anyway.

"I thought you gave it to Nesta. Like I asked you to." 

How tight had he and Mor been hugging when Gwyn appeared out of thin air? He wasn't sure. He tried to remember if his name on the back of the jacket had been visible to the girl, but soon discovered that he couldn't. A message had probably been sent from Gwyn's phone to Nesta's describing what she thought she had seen. She would be wrong in her assumption, but it kind of made his planned trip to the second floor redundant now, nevertheless.

"She didn't want it, Cass. I promise I offered it to her, and she said she already had a jacket. Now, I don't know if she meant hers or the jacket that guy besides her was wearing."

Cassian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Shit Mor, you should have told me. I thought she had taken it."

"Hey, don't be upset with me. It's not my fault." She protested, her pouting lips now more exaggerated. "To be honest, I think this was for the best. Please, Cass, I am begging you to put two and two together and realize that she didn't want your name on her back because she simply doesn't want you. Or else, she wouldn't have gone to the game with a date."

His head snapped at that. "So it was a date? How would you know?" Cassian had always trusted Mor's intuition in this area. She understood girls' behavior way better than he did.

Taking the red cup from his hand and sipping from it, Mor rolled her eyes. "Listen, I don't want to hurt your feelings, especially not tonight, but Nesta Archeron doesn't give a fuck about football, so if her pretty ass was there, it had to be that guy's idea. And she must like him a lot to agree to the plan. Did she tell you she would be there?" He said no with his head. "And why is that? Because she..." Mor pushed a finger against his chest. "Doesn't. Care. About. You."

Cassian just stood there, unconvinced. He wished Mor had insisted more.

"But I still went up there to their seats and offered, like you asked me to, because I do care about you." She kept going. "As does Rhys. Do you think he would like to find out you are trying to get into Nesta's pants?" She arched an eyebrow. "You know he is not precisely fond of her."

The silence, Cassian hoped, let Mor know he was not in the mood to get deeper into that conversation right now. "Yeah, you are right." He considered taking his cup back, but decided not to. Mor could keep his cup and take it downstairs with her advice and opinions. He had to go up, he was now determined. "Az was asking for you down there." The cheerleader's face lightened when he changed the subject, suddenly reminded that there was, in fact, a party waiting for her in the basement.

"Shall we go?" She offered.

"I was actually looking for a bathroom." Cassian excused himself. "I don't trust the one downstairs." He joked. She didn't push it, she simply gave him another quick hug and headed towards the music.

He gave himself a second to clear his head. To mentally curse himself, Mor and this night that had seemed so full of potential until five minutes ago. The stairs to the second floor of the Archeron's house were right there. I should go to her room, Cassian told himself. To explain myself. And so, with the confidence only a guy like him could have, he resumed his original route towards Nesta Archeron's bedroom.

Unknown territory.

It would be easy for him to pitch himself tonight. Pitching both of them, actually, presents Nesta with the idea of what they could become. In a perfect scenario, Nesta would listen. In the case that Gwyneth had misinformed her of what she thought she had seen in the hall, it might require a little more convincing. But Cassian made his way up, truly believing this would be the night he told Nesta what he wanted.

Loud and clear.

The hallway he ended up in was silent, as if there was no party happening in the basement at that very moment. It was pitch dark, and wanting to be as sneaky as possible, instead of turning on the lights, Cassian used his phone's flashlight to find Nesta's bedroom door. A decorative piece of wood in the shape of a perfect "N" hang from the door. Knowing all the residents of the house except Feyre —downstairs— and Nesta herself —at the other side of the wooden panel— were away, he knocked, not allowing his confidence to slip away.

Yes, Nesta had refused to take his jacket when Mor offered it in his name, but not once had she said no to fucking him. If she knew he was on the other side of the door, she would open it for him. When she didn't answer, Cassian knocked again. "Nes, it's me." He had to wait again, but this time he heard the muffled footsteps getting closer. Then, the door opened, and Cassian's grin returned to his face. "Hey." He leaned on the door, knowing from experience that women found the way his muscles flexed to be sexy.

Nesta's half-closed eyes didn't really react, though. "What do you want?" She asked bluntly.

"Were you sleeping?" The question was a courtesy. He could smell in the thick air of the room what she had been up to, despite the open window by the bed. The red eyes were proof as well.

"Yes." She lied. "Did you get lost?" Her sexy lack of patience was amusing and just what he had wanted to be greeted by.

There was soft music playing from her phone on the bed. "I'm almost where I want to be, actually." Cassian said, his eyes wandering through the room behind his girl.

The eye contact that followed was intense. Cassian wouldn't break it, he could stare at her annoyed frown for ages and never get tired. And Nesta wouldn't either, as she simply couldn't stand to lose. She had her hair up in a ponytail that had been perfectly neat maybe an hour ago and now struggled to contain a few pieces of hair that were too short in the front and framed her face. Although Cassian was sure there were a pair of shorts on her legs, they weren't visible under the big t-shirt she used as pajamas. The band logo was unrecognizable after so many trips to the washing machine over the years.

Knowing very few people were allowed to see the perfect Nesta Archeron looking this disheveled, but he was, only filled his chest with excitement. Because not only was he allowed to see it, he was also allowed to take her out of those clothes and make an even bigger mess of her.

"Are you going to stand there forever?"

"Until you invite me in." He retorted.

She rolled her eyes, but stepped to the side and opened the door enough for him to enter. He walked to the middle of the room and heard the door close behind him. "I don't think I've ever seen your bedroom." She didn't answer, nor did she address his presence when she walked back to her bed and jumped in. Cassian just stood there, taking in the empty white walls, the blue stripes of her sheets, and the fluffy rug in the middle of the room.

"I hate shoes inside the house." Cassian needn't be told twice. His socks were stark white, and Nesta took notice. Hers were as well. "Matching," she mumbled distractedly.

The only light came from a round lamp by her bed. It was warm and threw yellowy shades across the walls, the bed and her face. She looked relaxed, and Cassian wondered if he had ever seen her like this. So calm and comfortable. He absolutely hadn't. He would remember. Like he remembered the first and only time he had made her laugh out loud —and actually chuckle. Cassian felt like he should have, though. Hadn't he made her feel good in his arms? He had. Six times, no less.

But Nesta hadn't looked this at ease. Almost the opposite, he realized. She had wanted to get out of his embrace as soon as they were done. She always ran from him.

Well, not anymore. Tonight, he would demand she give him more —at least a chance—, or else they would be done forever.

Please, prove them wrong, he begged her. Prove you do care about me.

From the bed, Nesta stretched her arm to open a drawer. "Do you want some?" An untouched joint was offered to him.

"I've been told I am insufferable when I am drunk and high." He joked. Nesta's lips curled up, remembering the moment she spoke those words.

"You really are." She scouted to the side, leaving room for him on the bed. "But you are not drunk, though."

Absolutely not. He needed his mind to be clear for this. Nesta's parted lips were distracting enough. Her smell. The skin of her thigh hot against the back of his hand when he sat down. Their eyes met, and Cassian cursed himself for accepting the silent offer and getting in her bed. This was not what he had come up here for.

Had she not leaned in, Cassian might had found in him the strength to get up again. But she did lean in, and his body followed suit. She kissed him. He kissed her back, and Nesta was quick to make it deeper, to make it hungry and needy. His hand cupping her face was meant to steady them, as surely were Nesta's on his hair. And his arm finding its place around her waist, or her legs now straddling him.

Yes, when his hand left her pretty face and met its double on Nesta's other hip, his goal was to make sure she was comfortably sitting on top of him. The grinding it caused was collateral damage. The seam of his jeans rubbed the right inch on her body, and soon Nesta was moaning in his mouth.

Hadn't she leaned in, Cassian would be standing on the fluffy carpet, pouring his heart out for her. But she did. And so he was now stripping her of her t-shirt and delighting himself in the realization that Nesta had not been wearing any kind of shorts under it. Just some lovely black panties he was quick to pull aside.

"Fuck!" She let out when his fingers pushed inside her. She was soaking wet just from making out.

There was no excuse for that.

"Tell me what you want." He demanded.

With her mouth open in a silent exclamation, Nesta rode his hand like she should be riding his cock. He curled his two fingers inside her, making her tremble. To keep her balance, Nesta's palms came to rest on his chest, supporting her weight. With her arms at her sides and her back arched, Nesta's tits were pushed right to his face. Not wanting to disrespect his host, Cassian's mouth was on them in an instant.

Hadn't she leaned in...

Nesta tried her best to contain her whimpers, and he did his best to steal new ones from her lips. "Tell me what you want." He repeated, now that Nesta was approaching her climax.

"I just want to come." She pleaded. Her gray eyes found his and gave him that look that almost had him coming in his pants. "Please, Cassian, make me come."

"And what do I get?" He teased, freeing her nipples from the pleasure and torture of his tongue on them. She shuddered, probably feeling the cold now that they were wet with his saliva.

Nesta didn't answer, so he had to be tougher on her. She was lost in her thoughts, bouncing on his hand and enjoying the feeling of his thumb on her clit. With his left hand, Cassian halted her movement just so he could slip his right from under her. Nesta whimpered again, but this time it was unsatisfaction what lingered on her pouting lips. An unexpected swat across her butcheeks made her jump slightly. It had taken her by surprise, although it shouldn't have. She knew what would come when she didn't answer him the first time. "What do I get, Nes?" Cassian was getting tired of repeating himself. She knew better. He spanked her again, just because he wanted to see her tits bounce in his face when she felt it and reacted.

Like a cat, Nesta stretched her body and rested it flat on top of his, gaining access to his neck and covering it in kisses. It was Cassian's turn to groan, more so when she nibbled his earlobe, and he practically melted when Nesta's plump lips sought his again. She was such a smooth kisser, so good at it, Cassian almost forgot she was the one supposed to be begging for his touch, not the other way around. He rolled over, pressing her against the bed now, and grabbed her tits with perhaps more force than needed. Not that Nesta ever complained about sex getting a bit rough. He kneaded them and pulled her nipples to his will, enjoying how hard they got against his palms and how she arched her back for more. When her tongue entered his mouth, Cassian knew she was desperate.

"Anything you want." She promised, thinking she knew exactly what he would take as compensation. "You can have me any way you want, but please," A pause to let out a moan right by his ear, "please, make me come."

Cassian was quick enough in taking down his jeans that Nesta didn't complain about his warm body leaving hers. He wasn't quick enough to put on the condom she handed him from the bedside table, though, so Nesta got on her knees in front of him, matching his pose, and started kissing him again whilst he opened the silver square and wrapped himself in the rubber. When he was done, Cassian wasn't able to tell who was hornier. He only knew one second his hands were in Nesta's ass, taking her in the air, so she could wrap her legs around him, and the next he had slammed their bodies against the mattress again and was fucking her for all he was worth.

It would have been great to say she came quickly and repaid the favor by sucking him, but after all that grinding, Cassian was as close to coming as she was. She squeezed him so tightly he stood no chance, and soon they were both panting, Cassian all the way in and Nesta holding on to him like her life depended on it, needing him even closer. When the climax ran through them, Cassian didn't pull out, nor did she urge him to. Instead, her fingertips started dancing through his back. Making circles at first, then more complicated shapes. Something like triangles, then curves, and more sharp angles right after.

Cassian thanked his past self for staying sober tonight, so he was conscious enough to understand the meaning of the lines she drew.

"Come on a date with me." He whispered against her ear.

"No." Her answer came immediately. Not harshly, at least not with the intention to be harsh. She said the wordas a matter of fact. Empty of feeling.

He closed his eyes. Why? Wasn't this what she wanted? For him to be blunt with his expectations? "You said anything I wanted." Cassian reminded her. He didn't move. Their bodies were still tangled over her bed: him inside her, her legs caging his waist, and her arms hugging his neck. How could Nesta reject him while holding him with such care? 

As if she had read his mind, Nesta let go of him completely, and he had no choice but to sit up. Somehow quicker than Cassian had been when he took them out, Nesta gave him his underwear and jeans back for him to put them on. "I meant something like a blowjob and to swallow." Her coarse words hurt his ego more than his feelings. He didn't answer.

Cassian got up and pulled up his pants, then seated himself again and stared at her, a question in his eyes. She could read it—she in fact did—, but didn't answer. Cassian wondered, had she not leaned in, would he have been brave enough to ask her out with the words he had carried from the football field? Would the result have been the same, or was the fact that they always fucked first, talked later what made them go in circles?

"It was a good game. You did good." Her suddenly bringing that up only made things more awkward. 

"Yeah." Cassian would rather leave now than sit through the silence that followed. He stayed, though, waiting for who knows what to happen and fix the atmosphere, to turn it into... what, exactly? She must have felt it too —the lack of appropriate words to end this night.

Cassian ran a hand through his hair. Nesta fixed it, her touch a ghost. He looked at her and demanded an explanation with just a stare. Nesta didn't give him that either.

"You should go down." She told him. There was no sharpness in her tone, and maybe that was her way of saying she was sorry.

Accepting his fate and just wanting to leave on a good note, Cassian raised a teasing eyebrow and eyed what was between her legs.

"Not that." There it was: the eye rolling, the cute annoyance. "I meant downstairs, to the party. They are probably looking for you."

Indeed.

"You are saying a lot of things you don't mean tonight, Nes. It's kind of confusing."

The accusation finally woke her up from the post-orgasm haze. She jumped out of bed, leaving her t-shirt behind, and going for the door. "You are confusing." Her voice told Cassian she meant it.

"I think I've made myself pretty clear, though. Haven't I?" He took his shoes in one hand and followed her.

"Haven't I?" She retorted, turning around to face him. The defiance in her eyes burned bright, giving her an intimidating glow that compensated her lack of a top. Cassian didn't even look at her tits.

She opened the door for him. He closed it before the gap was wide enough for him to go through.

"Would it kill you to give me a chance?" He finally spat. 

"A chance for what, Cassian? What exactly do you expect? To continue with the fucking, but once a week, grab dinner together?" 

"Well, yeah." Cassian still couldn't understand what was so awful about spending time with him outside their bedroom, a small bathroom or an empty classroom. Be seen out in the open, grab her hand and kiss it just because he feels like it. For Nesta to wear his jersey to his games and celebrate with him and his friends afterward. Grab dinner when their schedules allow, and then go home together.

Nesta held his stare, and this time he couldn't read it. Which could only mean she didn't want him to. Cassian sighed.

"Okay, so whatever I want?" He brought up Nesta's sex-induced promise again. "Just give me a reason I can understand." When she opened her mouth, Cassian's finger sealed it again. "If you want a guy to get you drinks at a party, why can't it be me? If you want to hang out with a guy on a Friday night and go watch a game together,  why won't you let it be me? And don't give me an I don't like you, because you clearly do. What is so awful about me that you don't want to even try?"

When she closed her eyes, unable to look into his, Cassian's heart sank, understanding that there was a reason after all.

"I've tried." She confessed. "I've seen what spending time with you is like, and I don't want it." Not only didn't Cassian interrupt her, but he urged her to keep going, curious to see where she was going. "I've been in a room with you and your friends and remember what was said to me for even looking in your direction a little too long." She started counting with her fingers. "I've spent the afternoon with you guys and been completely ignored by every single one, including you, although I was invited to be there. We've had lunch, I've been trapped at one of your dinner parties and on Feyre's birthday, and there is nothing you can possibly offer me in a relationship to make up for how awful I've been treated every single time and how you did nothing to stop it from happening. How stupid do you think I am to sign up for that again?"

Cassian was equal parts offended on his friend's behalf and his own. Had it been anyone else in front of him, he wouldn't have bitten his tongue at the insult to his friends. They had never spoken ill of her to her face or purposefully tried to exclude her. She simply didn't fit in with the group, and that was okay. They could spend time alone.

"If that is what I'm getting myself into..." She corrected herself, saying, "If that is what you can offer me, then I don't want it."

"Don't you think a relationship is a little more complicated than liking my friends or not?"

"I am in Pre-Med, Cassian, I don't have the time for complicated. I want easy. This..." She signaled between the two, "This is easy. And I like it a lot."

It was his time to be cold. "Sorry, but this won't do it for me." Cassian took a step back, putting much-needed physical space between them. "Obviously, I can't be with someone who thinks that about my friends."

She agreed and stepped to the side, making room to open the door for him. "And I can't be with someone who would let their friends say exactly the same things about me." It was the brief silence as the words sank in what pushed her to keep going. "To be honest, and I am not saying this to be hurtful, you don't deserve more."

Cassian only nodded, not necessarily in agreement, not fully differing either. He understood.

"Have a good life, Nes." He just walked away.